The Monster of the Bell Tower
by Ninjee
Summary: The young Paris gypsy, Winry, has always heard stories of the Bell Ringer of Notre Dame. But it isn't until she meets a strange guard captain with cold black eyes, searching for the brother he lost long ago, that she starts to realize that the stories are true. A parody of The Hunchback of Notre Dame using Fullmetal Alchemist characters. Rated T to be safe. Will have EdWin!
1. Prologue

**Monster of the Bell Tower**

_**Prologue **_

"Hush, little one!" the worried young mother whispered to her child as she, her other son, and her husband raced through the empty streets of Paris. He quieted, and stared up at her with soft eyes of liquid gold.

"Is he all right?" her husband asked, his voice low as he turned to her.

"Yes, my love. He's calming down." she whispered. Her husband breathed a soft sigh that she echoed. _I do not want to leave my Paris. _she thought sadly. _But Cornello is becoming crueler and crueler toward gypsies. We cannot stay. Oh, my Paris, how I shall miss you! _

They arrived at the docks at midnight, as was planned. But instead of the boat they had expected, there were guards.

"_Sacrebleu_!" her husband shouted, trying to run. But they were captured before they knew what was happening. In the confusion, she was able to conceal her child under her cloak.

She held him close to her, hoping against hope he would not be noticed. There was a loud clopping of hooves as a horse drew close.

She leaned close to her husband, her other child, too big, now, to be concealed under wraps. Her husband wrapped his arms close to her and murmured a prayer. _Oh, mon Dieu! _she thought in despair.

The horse slowly drew closer and the rider dismounted. She had to stifle a scream.

Cornello himself! The most feared and hated among gypsies was standing before her! He scanned their huddle with a cold and precise eye, looking for anything that would convict them.

"Bring the vermin to the palace of justice." he said softly and scornfully, and oh! How she trembled! Her husband wrapped an arm around her.

"You there!" A guard's voice, and a kick to her ankle. "What are you hiding?"

"Stolen goods, no doubt." Cornello said, sounding bored. "Take them from her, guard..."

She gasped, and was filled with newfound strength as the guard leered at her. No one would take her baby.

She ran.

Gypsies were talented with the streets, and she knew the quickest ways around. But even a gypsy, who knew every side street, every shortcut of her beloved Paris, could not outrun a horse. She heard her husband run as well, and the guards followed him as Cornello gave chase after her. "Please, _mon amor_, save our Edward." she prayed softly. _Save yourself as well, my love.._.

She took every twist and turn she knew, but he always seemed right on her tail. Finally, she saw the church in front of her. Notre Dame!

She ran forward and slammed her fist agint the door. _Oh, mon Dieu! Locked!_

_"Sanctuary!"_ she screamed._ "Please give us sancuary!"_

She heard him behind her, and turned. There was a flash of silver as his sword came down. Then nothing.

_No, _she thought hazily._ Do not hurt him...my baby...my Alphonse... _

The baby began to cry and Cornello froze. "A baby...?" He picked the child up and looked into bright, golden eyes. Unholy, demon's eyes! "A monster!" he gasped and prepared to slay it along with its horrible gypsy mother. He lifted his sword...

"STOP!" cried a voice from the church. It was Archdeacon Marcoh, and even though he was not in time to save the mother, he WOULD save the child. He ran and knelt next to the dead young woman, with the brown hair and creamy skin, and he felt a wave of remorse. One more life that would not make a difference, one more gypsy that would not sing out in the streets.

Such a terrible waste.

Marcoh sighed and stood, facing Cornello and speaking in a soft, yet strong way. "See, there, Judge Cornello! Innocent blood has been spilt by your hand, and if it was not enough to kill a young mother, you would then kill her newborn?"

"The 'newborn' of which you speak, Marcoh," Cornello said smoothly, "is nothing but an unholy demon. The powers of evil must be stopped! This is why-"

"Do not lie, Cornello!" Marcoh thundered. "You can lie to yourself and become a broken man, and you can lie to those who believe you, and bring them down as well. But you cannot lie to our Father, for he knows all you have done, and what you will do in the future!"

Cornello recoiled. _No! Could it be true? The Heavenly Father, he despises demons such as this! Then why should he be angry with me, for doing my duty? _He stared at the demon child. _This could not be one of our Most Heavenly Father's children! _But if he needed to repent, to do penance...? "What must I do, Marcoh?"

"Care for the child." Marcoh said firmly. "Raise him as you would a son, for he is one of God's children."

"What..? I would be given this awful-" Marcoh fixed him with a cold stare, and Cornello sighed. "Very well. But let him live here with you, in your church."

"But where?" Marcoh asked.

"Anywhere." _Just so he's kept locked up, where no one can see him, and associate me with his unholiness. _"The bell tower, perhaps. You need a bell ringer, do you not?"

Marcoh sighed. "I suppose."

Cornello handed the baby to the archdeacon and turned away. "Good." _Perhaps someday...this evil creature may be of some use to me. Perhaps._

* * *

_A/N: Hi! I'm Ninjee, and I'm new to the site :) Please read and review! Hope you like my work!_

_I don't own FMA. If I did, Greed would have lived, somehow. (I don't care if that isn't logical.)_

_By the by, "sacrebleu" just about means "damn," "mon amor" is "my love" and "mon Dieu" is "my God," just in case you weren't sure. :)_

_Please R&R!  
_

_**EDIT:** I now have an image for this story! It was drawn by the lovely Hubedihubbe on deviantArt, and she's titled it Streets of Gypsies. She's given me permission to use it for MotBT! Everyone go and give her some love! 3  
_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Winry had always, all through her life, woken to the sound of the bells. The soft, the crashing, the bold, the meek, the bells of the great church that no gypsy was welcome inside.

Notre Dame.

She yawned and sat up, rubbing her eyes and smiling to the morning's music. The person who rang the bell, whoever they were, changed the tune every morning. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

Of course, she never got to hear much of it…

"Wake up, Princess!" one of the Chinese gypsies called. His name was Ling, and he had taken to calling his half sister "princess", because she was a tad bit spoiled, and always wore her hair in elaborate braids. To others, she was known simply as Mei.

The Chinese had arrived in Paris last year searching for fortune, and they had settled in the Court of Miracles. The eldest was an elderly man named Fu, who, though terribly old, was still strong and brave. He'd faced many a soldier in his time, and his granddaughter would face many more. She was a slim girl of around sixteen named Lanfan, quick on her feet and admittedly a clever pickpocket. He grandfather scolded her terribly when she stole, and she only took from others in dire situations, however. All gypsies begged, and some stole-no one worked, for none would hire them. It was sad.

The other two Chinese were Ling Yao and his half-sister Mei Chang. Ling was around fifteen and a jokester, cheerful and laughing to a fault. He entertained children on the street, with stories-stories of monsters and villains and beautiful princesses, and of his homeland, which fascinated the children of Paris to no end. His stories even fascinated the teenagers and adults-though he had admitted he stretched the truth. He told Chinese folktales, too, of the mighty dragons that swallowed the sun when they grew too tired of its heat, spitting it out when their great mouths burned. Of the Emperor's daughter who married a beast, only to have him turn into a prince when she grew to truly love him. Of the Empress who devised a test for her son's bride-if she could feel a pea through twenty mattresses, she was a true princess. Oh, yes, Ling was a fine storyteller-he never seemed to run out of tales to tell. And all who heard them did love his stories.

Mei was the youngest, around eleven or twelve. She was a tad spoiled, but no more than that, and she was a terribly good dancer and Winry's first choice for a dancing partner. She was sweet, once she knew you, though she rather acted like a brat and Lanfan had little patience for her. But that was how it was.

All of the Chinese had black hair except for Fu, whose hair was graying and who had a thick and imposing mustache. And they all had black eyes, though Ling's were rather squinty.

Ling popped his head into their room. She shared a room with Rose, which could be trying or lovely depending on their mood. But Rose was all and all Winry's best friend, and she would not be exchanged for the world. She was seventeen, with thick brown hair and bangs dyed bright pink in the front.

"Hurry up." Ling said, smiling at them. "You two have quite the day ahead of you." His French was marred by a Chinese accent, and it was silly to hear. "The Festival of Fools is tomorrow, don't forget! You and Mei are dancing!"

"Ah, yes, and I shall be known as 'La Esmeralda' for good." Winry remarked.

"Oh, don't fret, _ma chere_." Rose told her. "It's quite a lovely name."

"I prefer Winry." she muttered, but stood and shoved Ling out the door.

"Come now Ling, we have to dress. Go and bother Lanfan."

Ling chuckled and withdrew his head from the doorway. "Fine, but don't take too long. We have work today."

"Work." a voice scoffed. "Begging, that is what it is…"

"Oh, hello, Lanfan." Ling greeted cheerfully. "How are you on this fine morning?"

"Do not joke with me, Ling." the girl muttered, sighing. "I am truly not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood." Ling sighed. "You're far too serious to be in the mood."

"Honestly." Rose groaned. "Please let us dress, or we shall not be ready in time for the festival."

Lanfan muttered something in Chinese to Ling, and Winry smirked as she caught the word 'Tobias.'

"Right then." Rose snapped, having caught the word as well. "Out!"

"Oh, so you shall make me deal with Ling?" a voice cried, and Mei was there, rubbing sleepily at her eyes. "Honestly, Rose, Winry, I thought you had more sense. Deal with him yourself!"

"Well, he is not _my_ half-brother, is he, now?" Winry said reasonably. "And Rose quite has her hands full with dear _Tobias_." The last words were said sarcastically, as though she didn't find Tobias "dear" but rather quite amusing.

"Hush!" Rose cried, throwing a hay-stuffed pillow into Winry's face in irritation.

Winry laughed as Lanfan sighed. She said something in quiet Chinese to Ling, who nodded.

Lanfan chose not to converse in French most of the time. She could, if she should choose to do so, but when she was with the other Chinese and had to say something to them, she preferred to use Chinese. Winry had asked her why, once, and she'd gently, as though worried the French among them would be offended, said that while she liked French, she much preferred the sound of her own language. "I can never find the words to use." she had explained, "for we have words that you do not, and you French have words we do not. Some of your words, Winry, I cannot comprehend." Therefore, she only spoke when she had to, for she liked her own words better.

Ling answered her cheerfully in Chinese, and picked up Mei, slinging her over his shoulder. "Come then, Princess." he announced jovially, "let us go and find some breakfast."

"Goodbye until the festival." Lanfan called quietly, giving Winry and Rose a small wave as they departed.

She and Rose dressed quickly, deciding to earn a few coins dancing before the festival began.

...

Edward Elric wasn't used to so much activity. The city he'd grown up in with his father had been much calmer.

Although, he'd heard that there was some sort of festival going on today, so perhaps that was why there were so many people milling around.

The soldier who had sent him here had told him to ask directions to the Palace of Justice, whatever that was. Armstrong, his name was, a burly sort of man with a strong, important family line (to which he always quoted his successes.) He had taken a sort of care towards Ed after he had entered the military, perhaps due to Ed being the errand boy of the town, before. He'd been trying to put a smile back to his face. He didn't know that Ed's father had died, and Ed had actually liked that about him, for he hadn't been acting out of pity. Just kindness.

He'd been sad to leave Armstrong, but now that he was sixteen, he was starting to feel more lonely than he'd ever been without his father. It had been two years now, years of working up ranks in military, even though he was a child. "Military genius", they'd called him, a boy who could fight a grown man and come out on top. Two years since he'd last had a family, and knowing that his brother was _there, somewhere, _in Paris just made it harder not to pack his bags right away. But he had to think about what would happen if he found him. Then they would both have nothing.

So he waited, hard as it was, and held out hope that his brother could still love him after all of this. Their mother had probably told Alphonse all about him. They would know each other when they saw each other. He could take care of them.

It was that hope that brought him here to Paris.

He saw a few gypsies dancing on the side of the road, both willowy with straight hair, one blonde and one dark-haired. There was a young man, too, playing a soft drum beat. He reached into his pocket absentmindedly and tossed a few coins in the hat in front of them. The dog bouncing nearby sniffed his hand, and licked it, tail wagging. He smiled, his hood still up, and scratched the dog's ears.

Suddenly, the dark-haired girl gypsy gave a shriek and grabbed the hand of the boy with the drums. The boy took charge, gathering up the money and handing it to the other girl, and gathering up this drums. He and the dark-haired girl dashed away, and the blonde wasn't far behind.

He glanced behind him and saw the city police and guardsmen walking towards them. He glanced back at the girl, who had dropped her coins and was trying hurriedly trying to pick them up.

She wasn't quick enough. One of the guards had reached her and grabbed her arm.

"So, gypsy. Where'd you get all that money?"

"For your information, I earned it." she said bravely. "And I'd like it back if you don't mind."

"Gypsies don't earn money." the taller guard scoffed.

"They steal it." the shorter one hissed with obvious malice.

Ed frowned. Things were worse here than he'd thought. He cast around for a way he could help the girl without seeming to. Then suddenly, he got an idea.

He led his horse inconspicuously to the other side and then turned around. No one noticed what he was doing.

"Well, _you _would know about stealing!" the girl snarled angrily. And just as she made a great tug to get her money back, Ed rammed his horse into the guard trying to take it from her.

She dashed away, but he could see her peeking out from the shadows and decided to give her a show.

"So sorry, gentlemen!" he announced, pretending to scold the horse but instead murmuring "sit". The horse, (one of Armstrong's horses and astonishingly well trained by his younger sister,) promptly did so, and the guard was pressed to the ground. "These animals, you know, you just can't control them sometimes."

He glanced back, and saw no gypsy, but he swore he'd heard a light giggle a few moments ago.

"Insolent fool!" the lieutenant (as he'd realized the shorter one was) hissed, drawing a knife. "I wouldn't do this if I were you!"

"Actually, I don't have a problem with it." Ed said calmly, pushing his hood aside.

The lieutenant gasped. "C-captain!" He snapped to a salute and Ed gave into the urge to smirk.

"Now, gentlemen, if you would just show me to the Palace of Justice..."

* * *

_A/N: Ninjee here! Thanks for all the reviews and nice comments. I'm sorry I couldn't get this up sooner! There was a problem with my computer, and we had to send it in to be fixed :( I couldn't access my writing files for a while._

_I hope you're all happy with how this next chapter turns out! If you have any questions, I'll be glad to answer them. And you should all go see the movie! It's one of Disney's best :D_

_It feels a bit short to me, but this seemed like a good place to end the chapter._

_Disclamer: If FMA belonged to me, Lanfan and Ling would've gotten married, and it would've SAID they'd gotten married. Unfortunatley, niether The Hunchback of Notre Dame or Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood belong to me. You can blame that on why they never got married. :(_

_Please R&R! _


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

The festival was today.

He'd watched it every year for as long as he could remember. As a child, he'd wished every day to go down there and see it, to see all of the people and music. The chaos of it seemed almost beautiful. It would definitely be different; through he wasn't sure yet if different was better or just different.

But that was why he wanted to go, wasn't it? To find out.

He closed his eyes and breathed in. He wasn't sure how the very smell of the food and the festival could climb all the way to the top of Notre Dame, to him. He'd never bothered questioning it, though-some things you didn't question. Some things you let happen.

Anyway, he liked the smell.

He turned and sighed. "What's the use, Ann-Marie?" he asked the nearest bell. "I'll never get to go."

The bell didn't answer. They never did, of course, but you couldn't stay up here for your whole life and not need to talk to _something_. He'd turned to the bells.

Imagine talking to the gargoyles. Now _that_ would be pathetic.

He sighed again, and slid down the rope he'd hung up, past all the bells and beams to his work table.

He'd made a model of all of Paris there. First he'd made the buildings, carving every shop and house out of wood that his master let him have. Then he'd requested paint, and been granted it, and stated making people. He had the grocer, the old man who grew flowers in front of his house near the river, and many others that he felt like he knew more than he knew himself.

It was so very odd to know the routine of the grocer, when he woke and when he ate. Or who his wife and children were. It was made even more odd by the fact that the grocer would never know him, ever.

He couldn't leave the bell tower. Ever.

"That's it, then, Anne-Marie." he told the bell sadly. "Why do I bother?"

"Who are you talking to, boy?"

"M-master Cornello!"

He bowed his head as his master entered the room. Cornello was a balding man with a squared, strong body. He had squinted, cold eyes, always scrutinizing the world around him, looking for hints of imperfection, unholy things.

He himself, the bell-ringer, was one of those imperfections.

You would not think it, looking at him. He was only fifteen years old, and skinny for his age, but ringing the bells had left him with a layer of muscle most children wouldn't possess. He had slightly lank, long blonde hair. He'd never bothered with cutting it, for it always grew back quickly, and he'd decided that he might as well keep it all long enough to tie back and keep away from his eyes. It was getting ridiculous, though. Down to the middle of his back. Honestly.

He had normal features, he supposed, he didn't really have mirrors besides the bells, and they distorted reflections.

But then there were his eyes.

"Hide them, boy!" Cornello snapped. "When people can see you, you must bind them."

He did so, obedient, tying his blindfold on. The fabric it was made of allowed him to see through it, but it hid his eyes from Cornello.

"Set the table." Cornello told him. "We shall eat now."

He bowed his head again and did as the old man said, heading to the cupboard where he kept all the dishes he owned; two cups, two plates. He pulled them all out and set the table.

Cornello pulled the piece of cloth off the basket that was on his arm, revealing some pieces of bread and cheese as well as some water. He placed the food on the plates and gestured to his ward to eat.

He did so, carefully eating a piece of bread, as to not spill crumbs. The rats were always terrible at night, and he didn't want to make it worse _or _loose a bite of his daily meal.

Cornello seemed to be in an almost-good mood, and asked, "Would you like to work on your alphabet?"

"Yes, master." he told him, making sure not to seem too eager. If he did, Cornello would most likely say no. He disliked when people were excited. He said it made them rambunctious.

But the alphabet was something that made him excited indeed. He longed to learn things, to be a clever person. He wanted to read and write. He'd memorized the alphabet after a few days, but when he'd tugged carefully on his master's arm and recited it for him, eager to learn more, Cornello had been angry, and called him a cheat and a liar. His master had been _so_ angry, telling him the thing he hated second most in the world was a cheat, that he confessed to cheating even though he had not done so, begging forgiveness. He had been forgiven, but his punishment was that he was not to study with Cornello for a month or so. Finally, he could get back to work! He must pretend, he had decided, to have trouble remembering sometimes, so that his master would not be suspicious.

He didn't know why it had seemed as though he'd cheated in the first place. Perhaps normal people couldn't memorize things quickly.

Maybe only demons could.

"A," Cornello started, "is for…"

He thought about the words he'd been taught. "Abomination?"

"Yes. B?"

"Bla…Blasphemy." He wondered if he was overdoing it with hesitating and pretending to not remember.

"C?"

"Contrition?"

"D?"

"Oh! Damnation."

"E?"

"_Eternal_ damnation."

Cornello smiled, faintly. "Good. F?"

"Festival." he said automatically.

Cornello choked on his sip of water. "Excuse me? What did you say?"

"F-F-Forgiveness." he managed to stammer.

His master's eyes were sparking and cold and furious. And he knew that he would not be forgiven, not yet. He bowed his head.

"You wish to go to the festival." His master's voice was more controlled now, but still dangerous.

"It's just…you go every year." he murmured. "And…"

"I'm an official, boy, I _have_ to go!" Cornello sighed. "But I don't _enjoy_ a moment!" He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, leaning over so their eyes were on the same level. "Look, my boy. I've told you, you cannot leave this bell tower. The world is a cruel and unkind place. They will look at you and see a demon."

He looked at his feet.

"I am your only friend." The man continued. "I was the only one who would look at you after your heartless gypsy mother abandoned you…and this is the thanks I get? I feed you, I dress you, and I do not look at you as a demon, child! I have raised you as my own. You must stay here, where you will be safe."

Still looking at his feet, he nodded. "I understand. You are good to me, master." He closed his eyes. "I am sorry."

Cornello straightened. "You are forgiven." he said soberly, walking towards the door. In the doorway, he turned and looked back. "You must remember. This is your sanctuary, Quasimodo."

He left, then. And the sad boy in the bell tower didn't notice the smug smile on his master's face as Cornello walked down the stairs.

* * *

The Palace of Justice.

Ed's first impression: it was disgusting. The walls were covered with moss and slime, and the whole place looked as though it hadn't been cleaned for years. He could see rats scampering about in the shadows, and there were yells coming from somewhere in the next few rooms.

He walked a little further and saw an old man with a bald head, standing and watching with a small smile on his face as someone was whipped.

Ed winced. The man seemed heartless, indeed. How could you just stand there when before your eyes another person was being demolished to nothing? The man being beaten was sobbing, tears making tracks in the grime of his face, and the old man just stood there.

Ed cleared his throat, and the man turned around.

"Ah, Captain. Elric, is it?"

"Yes, sir." Ed told him.

"Good, good." the man said approvingly. "You had no trouble getting here, I trust?"

"No, sir."

The man nodded approvingly. "Come, then, Captain Elric. I must say, my last captain was rather unsatisfactory…but I daresay you will _whip_ my men into shape."

Ed didn't miss the emphasis on "whip", and his eyes narrowed. "It's an honor, sir." he lied. "And, sir, you are…?"

"I am Judge Cornello." the man said, smiling.

Ed nodded, trying not to show the way his shoulders tensed at the name. So this was the hated and feared judge.

Hated and feared among the people, anyway. Among the soldiers, at least from what he'd heard while walking here, he was a good, faithful man who wanted to clear the city of impurity.

They walked through a hallway that was, if possible, even filthier than the one they'd been in before. The stone bricks on the walls seemed to block out the outdoors and the noise from the street, and it was eerily quiet as they walked, not speaking. Finally they reached a balcony, and Cornello stopped.

"Are you aware of what your work will consist of, as a captain?" the old man asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Vague details, sir." Ed told him, glancing around to the busy street below. "I assume it'll consist of keeping the peace, stopping crimes, and such?"

Cornello drummed his fingers on the railing of the balcony, and sighed. "Despite your age-you are only sixteen, is that correct?-you have shown to be one of the best soldiers that my higher-ups have seen. Who has trained you?"

"A family friend, sir. Her name is Izumi Curtis."

"_Her?_" the man enunciated, frowning. "Rather odd. But she appears to have trained you well, has she not? It's of no matter, though, I suppose. Now, on the subject of your parents…?"

"Both dead, sir. My mother died when I was young, and my father was killed two years ago…by a street thief."

"Ah, I see. Those damn gypsies!"

_I never said gypsies, _Ed thought, but shrugged it off. He was supposed to pretend he hated gypsies, after all-this ruse would work fine.

"That is precisely why I need you, Captain Elric. The gypsies-they are becoming bolder, and it is unbearable. I have tried, you see," Cornello noticed a few ants moving on the balcony. "-to stomp them out, one," He calmly squished them, one after the other. "-by," _Squish._ "-one. But for all my efforts, they have thrived. I believe they have a safe haven, somewhere in the city." He peeled up one of the stones on the railing, revealing an ant's nest.

"And when we find the safe haven," Ed said, careful to keep his voice neutral, as much as he wanted to punch the insufferable old man. "What are we going to do?"

Cornello turned the stone over and slammed it into the nest, crushing every last ant. Ed winced.

"You make your point vividly, sir."

The old man smiled at him, a self-satisfied smile. "You know, I quite like you, Captain. You'll be of use to me."

A loud horn sounded, off in the square. Cornello frowned. "Duty calls. Tell me, my boy, have you ever attended a commoner's festival?"

"I can't say I have, sir." Although the Armstrongs had thrown parties that were quite enormous.

"Then this should be rather educational for you. Come along, then."

* * *

He made his decision as soon as Cornello left. If the master found him, he would be in trouble, but he would be careful, and he would wear a disguise. He had carved masks out of the wood he had been given, and he chose the one of a lion. The eye slits of the mask were slim and would hide his eyes. He drew a cloak over his shoulders, and slid the mask so that it hung around his neck.

He would be punished if he was found. But he didn't want to talk to people, he just wanted to see it, and be part of it.

He slid down the outside of the cathedral with hope and joy in his heart, sliding the mask on and dropping to the ground as soon as he was close enough.

The Festival of Fools! At last!

* * *

_A/N: I'm back! This would have been finished sooner, but I took a trip for the end of the summer and didn't have internet for about a week. But I've finally updated, and in this chapter you meet Quasimodo! I hope you like how I've portrayed this, and if you have any suggestions I'd love to hear them. _

_The ant scene and the alphabet scene were taken straight from the movie, but the rest was written by me. However, in case you are not aware, I don't own either the Hunchback of Notre Dame or Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. If you think I do, that says quite a few things about you, none of them good._

_Please R&R, and I'm sorry for not finishing sooner XD _

_~Ninjee_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Quasimodo spun in place, drinking in the sights and the scene and the smells. There were voices in the air all around him, washing over one another so that he could hear every voice but he couldn't understand a word.

It was marvelous.

He stopped at a vendor first, taking a pastry sprinkled with cinnamon and pushing his mask up enough so that he could eat it. All the food was free today. The pastry was the best thing he'd ever tasted, and he grabbed another, offering a huge smile to the man that had made them. The man clapped him on the back. "Eat up, boy, put some meat on those bones!"

He leaned against the cathedral, munching, and looked. People in brightly colored costumes passed by, and the vendors wound pennants on their stalls for decoration, and a stage was put up in the center of the square. There were hundreds of people milling around, talking to each other. He decided he would just watch.

A girl dashed in, tall and fair-skinned with dark brown hair and bright pink bangs, holding the hand of a boy with dark skin, hair and eyes. They paused, looking at each other, and the boy slid an arm around her and kissed her goodbye. They he walked off, giving her a wave over his shoulder that she returned, and began to weave amongst the people, playing a pair of round drums that hung from a sash around his neck. The girl with the pink bangs clasped her hands over her heart and visibly sighed. Quasimodo chuckled. She was lovesick.

As the girl watched her love walk away, another girl came out of the crowd to grab her elbow. This girl was short, with elaborate braids in her black hair, milk-pale skin, and large dark eyes. She was gesturing impatiently to the older girl, waving her arms about in distress. He saw the golden bracelets on the young girl's wrists and ears, and stood straighter. _Gypsies…?_

The older girl gasped and put her hands to her cheeks. _In trouble? Maybe I should help…even if they are gypsies..._

Just then, as the older girl looked as though she was about to panic, yet another girl tapped her on the shoulder. This next girl was tall, with blonde, stick-straight hair, and a mischievous grin.

The older girl twirled around and locked eyes with the blonde, and all the air seemed to puff out of her as she gave a relieved sigh and shook her finger at the blonde, clearly scolding her. Quasimodo frowned. _Then perhaps she is not lovesick, but simply dramatic? Everything she does seems….over the top. _He was usually a good judge of character, but this girl had thrown him for a moment.

The youngest had relaxed her shoulders, and was laughing as the blonde was scolded, though not as if she was mocking her, more out of relief. _Perhaps the blonde was missing and now she's back._ Quasimodo mused.

He shrugged his shoulders and turned away from the gaggle of gypsies. There was much more to see.

* * *

"_Mon ami, _you _must_ stop sneaking off like that." Rose scolded, shaking her finger at Winry. Mei giggled behind her hands.

"Sneaking? I can assure you it wasn't that." Winry scoffed. "The soldiers almost got me. But I am safe, you see, Rose? I'm all right."

"The soldiers?" Mei asked, her eyebrows crinkling as she frowned. "I'm sorry."

"We still have money for dinner, and that's what matters." Winry said, shrugging. "Now come, Mei, or have you forgotten that we're dancing? Ling's going to announce us soon, the festival's already underway!"

"Oh yes!" Mei gasped. "Come on, then, we have to get you ready!" Mei took Winry's hand and dashed off towards their tent. "Ooof!"

Winry chuckled. "Mei, do watch where you're going." Mei, her face scarlet, bobbed a curtsy to the stranger.

"So sorry! Really!" she exclaimed. "I was just in a hurry…"

"N-n-no problem." the person stammered. He was a boy wearing an impressive costume, a long blonde wig and a lion's mask. The wig looked just like a mane.

Winry grinned. "Well, no hard feelings." she said cheerfully. "Great mask, by the way!"

"Oh…r-really? I carved it myself." the boy said.

"It's amazing." Mei said. "But Winry, we have to go!"

"Oh, yes, dancing." Winry said thoughtfully. "Okay, then, Mei, let's go." They dashed off, leaving the masked boy behind.

Mei tugged her by the arm into a tent, and they got dressed in a whirlwind. They wore gauzy dancing dresses, and Mei wore slippers in the Chinese fashion, which were easier to move about in, while Winry went barefoot. Mei's dress was soft pink, and Winry's was blue. And as they slid bracelets onto their arms, they heard Ling leap onto stage and froze. Mei was shaking a little.

Winry grinned at her, squeezing her hand. "Don't be nervous. It'll all be fine." She brushed a hand over Mei's dress, straightening it, and added, "You look beautiful."

Mei smiled, and they stood holding hands in the wings, waiting.

* * *

Quasimodo looked up at the stage and smiled to himself, it seemed as though something was about to start. The girls he'd run into had said something about dancing. Perhaps this was it…

"Come one, come all! We have some of the greatest acts in Paris here for you all today, good people, and all of it free! Gather round! Our first act for today is two of the finest ladies in all of France!" The young man onstage laughed, tilting back his head. He was a gypsy too, with long black hair pulled back into a tail down his back. He wore baggy white pants and odd-looking shoes, and a brightly colored vest over a bare chest. He was pacing the stage, grinning.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mei Chang, all the way from China, and the lovely La Esmeralda, who hails from Paris!"

He threw something on the ground, and dust flew up all over the stage. When it cleared, the girls from before were there, dressed differently, and the long-haired boy had vanished.

Mei Chang and La Esmeralda began to dance.

* * *

Winry closed her eyes, feeling a bit of the old annoyance that Ling had insisted upon her having a "better" name for the festival. Winry was fine, to her thoughts, but no, "La Esmeralda" was her name now. It was silly. But she pushed that away and danced, her eyes closing, a smile growing wider on her face.

She moved to the beat of Tobias's drums, letting the bells on her wrists jingle in time, hearing the clapping of the crowd and her own pounding heart.

It was over quite fast. One minute she was dancing, and the next she was bowing for the crowd, Mei at her side. The little girl was glowing with the cheers.

They only people not showing that anything important had happened were Cornello, who looked bored, and a boy, standing next to him, who looked to be rolling his eyes. The boy had long hair like a gypsy, kept in a braid down his neck. Golden hair. It wasn't simply blonde, it was _gold,_ and it looked real…and it was _beautiful._

The boy looked her straight in the eyes and she had to turn away because his eyes were far from beautiful. They were cold and emotionless and eerie, and they send a wicked chill down her spine. She realized she was shivering, because there was force in those eyes, there was power, but there was also nothing. _Mon Deiu, my good Lord, protect me from heartless eyes and twisted souls, amen. _

She bowed once more and led Mei off the stage, still shaking. She crossed herself quickly, in the wings, and sighed.

"Are you all right?" asked Mei with worry. "Winry?"

"I'm fine." she whispered. "Oh, _mon Deiu…_but I am fine. I'm okay…"

"Are you certain? You don't look it. You look…afraid."

"I'm fine. It was just a little scare."

"Was it the soldiers? I know they took your family from you. Are you afraid?"

Mei tried so hard sometimes, to be grown up. To help anyone who needed it. Even if she was insufferable sometimes, without her they would not be complete. "I was, a bit. I am fine now, though, Mei, thank you."

"_Bu yong xie." _she smiled. "You are welcome."

Winry squeezed her hand, the momentary rush of fear and panic that had appeared fading away.

She was safe. It was not going to happen again.

* * *

They had been good dancers, Ed decided. The taller one, (the one he'd seen before and given coins to, the blonde one) had been better than the shorter one with the braids, though. He didn't know much about it, dancing, besides what his father had told him about festivals and how his mother would dance with a few other gypsies, "the main and best attraction!" He was fairly sure you weren't supposed to smile into the crowd and wave as you danced, though. The small one had been doing that.

Now something else was going on, a contest of some sort. He really couldn't see what all the fuss was about, but perhaps it was more interesting when you were in the festival instead of watching it. Whatever the case, he wasn't really paying attention. He was scanning the area for gold hair or brown, for the mother he could picture in his head from the many descriptions or the brother with his father's golden eyes.

If Cornello looked over, it would look like he was just looking around, and so that was all right. He wouldn't be caught.

He glanced at the church looming above them. Honestly, it made him a little uncomfortable being so near it, because if there _was_ a God, he probably wouldn't be too pleased with him. His father hadn't believed, and he'd never set foot in a church before. There had been no need too. And with the way Cornello's minions went on and on about religion, it seemed that if you missed one Sunday service you were damned for eternity. So actually, he rather hoped that there wasn't a God, because there being one would most likely mean he was doomed.

And being doomed would mean no luck or hope in his search.

Not that he was having much luck already. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't ask a gypsy, he was supposed to hate them. And he couldn't weave through the crowd unnoticed and search, because he was required to stay by Cornello's side right now. He couldn't do anything besides look, anyway, and what on earth would _that_ do? How would _that_ help him any?

He sighed irritably. This whole thing was going to be harder than he'd thought.

Onstage, the foolish-looking gypsy with the long hair was back, running about and tugging masks off people's faces. The people then made hideous faces at the crowd. Some of the faces weren't good, and the crowd booed them. When that happened, a dog rushed up, (the same dog that had been dancing with those two girls before the festival had begun) and shoved them off the stage and into the mud.

_All of it,_ Ed thought, _is idiotic_. _Stupid and foolish. The Festival of Fools lives up to its name._

His mind went back for a moment, to the blonde girl and the way her eyes had looked when she'd seen him. Like she was seeing a monster…_or a ghost_.

A ghost. Had she known him somehow? Had she recognized him? And if she had…did that mean she knew Alphonse?

_Right, I'm talking to her as soon as I can_. he decided. _I'm glad I got _something_ out of this stupid festival._

* * *

Winry was in the tent, alone with Den. Mei had gone to go get some food, and she'd stayed behind to watch the crowning of the King of Fools from the wings. The faces they made always made her laugh. She figured they'd be just the thing to shake off the feeling of those awful eyes.

She wondered idly if the boy in the lion's mask would come up to participate.

She stroked Den's head for a while, watching idly as the lucky winner was carried around the square and then unceremoniously dumped down next to the mead kegs. He didn't care, and just went and got himself a mug of the drink, and the crowd roared with laughter.

Ling leaped back onstage and bowed cheerfully. Winry smiled.

"Den, stay with me." she murmured. It was nice and warm here, unlike in the Court. And she was tired. She laid her head on Den's stomach and closed her eyes.

"Wake me up in a couple of minutes, okay?" she asked the dog sleepily. Den barked in reply.

* * *

Quasimodo was eating again, a sort of meat this time, covered in sauce, when he heard the scream.

"Help! _Help! _Fire!"

He looked up and saw that one of the tents near the stage was burning. A dog was barking frantically inside.

The little girl with the braids was screaming in a language he couldn't understand to the tall boy with the long hair. He was yelling back.

The girl with the pink bangs was crying.

The soldiers were either laughing-_laughing?!-_or standing, dumbstruck.

The soldier right next to Cornello was saying something, and Cornello was shaking his head.

But no one was _doing anything!_

He was running over himself before he'd made a decision to at do it all.

* * *

Den was barking. Loudly.

She yawned and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Den nosed her, trying to get her to stand up.

"What is it, De-" Just then, she noticed what _it_ was, and screamed.

The tent was on fire. All around her were flames, climbing higher and higher. She leaned down low, trying not to breathe, because now she could taste the smoke, the burning, and she was shuddering, and she didn't know what to do.

Den huddled next to her, whimpering.

* * *

He ran through the flames, to help whoever it was inside, and found the girl who had been dancing, La Esmeralda, and a dog. He picked her up-she could stand, but she needed help-and grabbed a stick that had fallen and beat at the flames. She tried to help, getting a stick of her own, but she'd inhaled too much smoke and was too light-headed to be of much use.

He finally broke through just as she started to pass out, and managed to get her out of the burning tent before she fell on the ground. He picked her up, carefully, and headed into the church, her dog following them.

He wouldn't be able to hide these burns. This was it. He would never set foot outside again. But he had saved someone. He, a demon, had saved someone.

He wondered, climbing the steps of the tower, how that was possible.

* * *

_A/N:__ Yay! Next chapter's done. I hope you all like it! This is where it starts to turn from the events of the movie and become my own thing. _

_Sadly, I don't own this stuff. Sorry._

_Please R&R! _

_~Ninjee_


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_"Come to me, little gypsy. Be a good girl...If you come, you can see your parents."_

_Her parents were dead. Not with him. Or were they? The world was shifting, changing, becoming muddled._

_She took a step forward. Was Mama there? Was Papa? No. Only the cold eyes of Cornello, which shifted and blurred and revealed that he, too, was an illusion. _

_Instead of the judge, she was staring into the cold and distant black eyes of the young captain with the blonde braid. He held out his hand. "C'mere, gypsy girl..."_

"Miss? Miss!"

Winry opened her eyes and found herself shaking from the nightmare. A small boy, the one who'd saved her, but with not a lion's mask but bound eyes, now. He was watching her worriedly. "Were you dreaming, Miss?" he asked uncertainly. "You were shaking in your sleep."

"Yes...yes, I was..." She was still shaken, wondering why he didn't unbind his eyes. It was very uncomfortable not being able to read his expression. Odd, as well. Why bind your face, unless you had something to hide?

"I have some food, and water, if you need it." the boy murmured, waving towards a table where some chicken and bread was laid. "What's your name?"

"Winry." she said. "How about you?"

He frowned. "Quasimodo."

She sucked in a breath. "But that means-"

"Yes, I know." the boy said, his voice cracking. "Half-formed."

_Who would name their child such an awful name?_ she wondered. _And why? Half-formed, honestly. He was not! Slim and pale, perhaps, but nothing more._

"Why?" she asked finally.

"Judge Cornello tells me I'm demonlike. I have demon's eyes." the boy said softly.

"Oh." Winry whispered, thinking of the braided captain again. His eyes held nothing.

That was demonlike.

That must be why he wore the blindfold, she realized. It was the sort of fabric that allowed you to see without being seen.

She held eyes with the boy, or rather, looked at the blindfold he wore for a moment, and then sighed and dropped her hands. "I shouldn't have asked." she said in apology.

"No, it's all right. You were bound to wonder." he said, softly.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"Notre Dame." Quasimodo answered, gesturing towards the window and seeming relieved that they were off the subject. "In the bell tower, with me, the bell ringer."

"Oh, yes." Winry remembered. "Then, what happens next, Quasimodo?"

"I haven't figured that out yet, exactly." the boy said sheepishly. "You could stay, I suppose..."

She felt sick at the idea. "Perhaps for a few days. But gypsies don't do well inside stone walls."

"Really?" the boy said with a frown. "I hadn't known. I'm sorry."

"Nonsense, you saved my life." she assured him. "It was not your fault."

"I had thought that the guard wouldn't have admitted to the sanctuary." Quasimodo said with a thoughtful frown. It really was odd that she couldn't see his eyes when he was speaking. "But he did. The archdeacon was downstairs when I brought you in, you see. When Cornello and that guard, the one with the braid, I think, came in, they wanted to come upstairs and get you. Archdeacon Marcoh told them you had claimed sanctuary, and the guard left. Cornello insisted that you had to be put in jail, being a gypsy." He looked uncomfortable, as though worried he might offend. "But the archdeacon said something to him…anyway; I'd have thought that the guard would have wanted to get you as much as Cornello would."

"I doubt he was happy with it." Winry frowned.

"But he admitted to it." Quasimodo pointed out. "Do not forget, most guards would not have. Perhaps he is one of the few who is friendly towards gypsies."

"His eyes hold no feeling." Winry whispered. "I cannot trust such a person."

_C'mere, gypsy girl..._

She shook off the dream.

"How bad are your burns?" Quasimodo asked. "I have some medicine."

"Where do you get all these things?" she asked. "You're up in the bell tower!"

"The archdeacon brings them to me. Master Cornello, sometimes, too…when he is not angry with me. But my master only brings food, and wood, so I can carve. The archdeacon brings me medicine when I ask. I don't know how long it will be until the master comes to check on me, but it won't be any time today. Perhaps he won't come for a while, and the burns will heal enough that he will not know it was me."

"Not know it was…" Winry frowned, and sat up, so that she was facing him. "But wouldn't he be proud, to know that you saved someone? My papa would have been proud of me."

"Cornello is not my father, he's my master. And he wouldn't be proud that I saved a gypsy."

"He doesn't like us too much?"

"I didn't either. Now I'm starting to question that."

"We aren't bad." Winry told him. "We don't steal and beg because we want to, we just…can't do anything else."

"My mother was a gypsy. She abandoned me."

"My mama and papa were killed, by your master's soldiers! I'm not saying all the gypsies are good. But most of them are, Quasimodo."

* * *

"Gypsies are scum! I definitely don't have a problem with bumping a few of 'em off." Ed yelled, doing his best to look like he meant it. "A gypsy killed my father! They deserve to die too!"

The men around him cheered and raised their drinks. "Yeah!" one agreed. "They're thieves and cheats and liars, every last one of 'em. They deserve what they get!" And just after answering that one question, Ed wasn't an outsider anymore. He could be trusted.

There was one man, though, that was still looking at him with suspicion. And this also happened to be the only man who hadn't cheered at the mention of knocking off gypsies.

Ed didn't think it was a coincidence.

So as the soldiers were dispersing, Ed followed the man. He had black hair and focused black eyes, and he looked almost sad. He flinched as Ed spoke.

"Hey."

"What do you want, Elric?"

Jeez, he sounded annoyed. "Just to ask you a question."

"Only one?"

"Yup."

"Ask away."

"Well, sir, when I mentioned gypsies, specifically knocking them off, you were the only guy who didn't celebrate. Why is that? What love do you have for the gypsies?"

"I'll answer your question if you'll answer mine, Elric. Why are you asking? Why do you need to know how I feel about gypsies? What do they mean to you?"

"Heh." Ed chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain." He considered the situation for a minute. If this guy did care for gypsies, he might know where to find them. That would mean help finding his brother, and an ally in the military. If it was a trick, he'd be in trouble. But the most important thing was finding Al, he decided. "Fine, I'll tell. I'm trusting you with this, though, sir."

"Mustang. Roy Mustang."

"Heh. Edward Elric, then." Ed said. "Now that we're set with the introductions, I'll answer your question, Mustang." He slid out one of his contacts and blinked at the man, smirking a bit at his surprise. "I'm asking because I need an ally. And specifically, one who cares about gypsies. Why? Because my mother was one, and my father was one, and my brother, hopefully, is one. _And I need to find him._" He slid the contact back in. "My dad made me these. He knew I'd have to hide my eyes here." He gave the officer an even stare. "That answer your question, Mustang?"

"Indeed it does." the black-haired man replied. "So you want to find your brother? I can't help you with that. I don't know where the Court of Miracles is. But I'll still answer your question."

He exhaled softly. "A friend of mine, Maes Hughes, was a gypsy sympathizer. He said that if we made peace with the gypsies, they might not steal or cheat. All they wanted was a chance to feed their families, like any other person-because they were people. Many people disagreed, and thought he wasn't cut out for the military, feeling the way he did, but he was still a good soldier. He had a family, as well, a wife named Gracia and a daughter named Elicia. He never stopped jabbering about them." A faint smile flitted onto Mustang's face.

"He was usually given jobs that weren't in the streets. But that day, a soldier came and said that they had to test his "loyalty" by sending him out in the field. So he was sent out on patrol, he and I and the soldier that I had to assume Cornello had sent. We came across a family of gypsies on patrol. A mother, a father, and little girl. The little girl...she was only a few years older than Elicia was at the time."

Mustang closed his eyes. "We were ordered to kill them, all of them. The father picked out the little girl and he and the mother turned to shield her from the swords. That gesture...it was so much like one he himself would have made that he dropped his sword, and stood in front of them, and told them to run. He was killed instantly, by Cornello's goon. And I couldn't do anything. The goon managed to kill both the parents, but that little girl escaped.

"I'll never forget her. Maybe if I'd defended her parents too, those people all would've lived."

"You can't waste your time with "what ifs", Mustang." Ed said calmly. "It doesn't change anything. You're alive now, so make the most of it." He searched for his father's words. "Trust them, but pretend you don't. Do good things for them. And let them get away. They'll remember you."

"What happened to you, Elric, that gave you "what ifs"?" Mustang said, and they stopped walking in front of a church graveyard. "You're just a kid. And why are you in the military?"

"My father was killed by a mugger." Ed said, his voice even. "And I used to ask myself, every day, what if we hadn't gone to get food right then. But it's no use." He turned to walk away, leaving Mustang in front of the graveyard. "He's not coming back." _That's why I need to find Al. I need someone...I need my brother._

He stopped at a shop window, cold glass. The shop was closed, and the street was mostly deserted. He slid out the contacts and stared at himself for a long moment.

Bright gold eyes. His father's eyes.

He remembered hands ruffling his hair when they went out together.

_"The kid looks just like his father."_

He remembered his father's laughter at that.

_"No way will he grow up as handsome as his old man!"_

He remembered hands clutching at his jacket, gold eyes boring into his, wildness and fear and blood and death reeking in the air.

_"There is money, Edward...in our home. Go to Paris...find your brother...keep him...keep him safe. You can always trust a gypsy. They...will see your eyes...and know you are...mine...my son. But if...you are in any other profession...it would...be...wise...to pretend to despise them...they are good people, but most don't see it that way. Give them...good turns. Do not...turn them in...and do not...hurt them. Trust them...but pretend...you do not...I love you, my son. I will...see you...again...fare...well...Ed..ward..."_

He pushed the contacts back in and hurried off down the street.

_No use in 'what ifs', Ed._

_Not anymore._

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking._ I'll go to the church, _he thought_. At least I can still ask that girl about Al._

* * *

"Your parents…" He wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sorry."

"Everyone is." she said, sighing. "Everyone's sorry. I'm sorry too." She looked at him again. "We all have things we're sorry for. I'm luckier than most. Mei and Ling's papa hated them, and they didn't know their mothers. Lanfan's parents died just after she was born, and her grandmother died a few years ago, before they left China to come here. Rose and Tobias don't really have parents either…At least I knew Mama and Papa, and loved them, for a few years before they died. Most don't even have that…Our lives are hard, and our families are gone, but we make new families with our friends and our neighbors. That's how it is when you're a gypsy."

He was silent for a long time, until he finally said what was burning inside of him.

"That sounds wonderful."

"It is." she said, her voice soft and affectionate. "It's like having the whole world on your side."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, there's Mei. She can be the most bratty little girl, but she cares so much about people. She didn't have a family for a long time-her mother died when she was young, and she was raised by an aunt who thought she was a burden. All she had was this little stunted panda named Xiao Mei..."

Winry told him, with increased excitement, about all the gypsies in her "family". There was Ling, Mei's half brother, who loved to make people laugh, there was Lanfan and her grandfather, Fu, who were masters of shadows and disappearing in plain sight, there was Rose, who worried about everyone and everything, and her fiancé, Tobias. There was also Den, the dog, and Winry's grandmother, Granny Pinako. He was drawn in by the stories about people he'd never known, and he felt a sort of sadness and wanting in his chest, for what he'd never had.

"Having them must be great." he said, finally. "I wish I had people like that."

"Come with me."

"P-pardon?"

"I said, come with me." Her eyes twinkled with laughter. "I'm going to escape soon anyway! You can come with me, and be a gypsy too."

"I-I couldn't!"

"Why not?" Her eyes were wide and excited. "You'd love it! They'd love you! You would have a family!"

"I can't leave the tower." he said firmly. "Who will ring the bells? They'd miss me."

"The bells?" She has an odd look on her face. Too late, he remembers that other people don't talk to bells, and he could kick himself.

"W-well, not really miss me." he stammered. "But I'd...I'd m-miss it here..."

"Oh." she said, deflating a little. "Are you sure, Quasi?"

"Yes. I want to stay here." He doesn't. But he can't leave; he can't go out there again...

"Okay." She looks around, frowning with concentration, glancing toward the stairs. "I guess I'll leave, then."

"You can't, not that way." he told her. "There are guards posted by all the exits. Cornello wants you either trapped or in jail."

She taps her chin.

"Winry, there isn't a way you could get out. You're burned up, anyway." He climbs halfway up a ladder leading to where the bells are. "I have to ring the bells for the evening mass. Rest until after." He tried to give her a reassuring smile. "We'll work something out." _I hope._

"Okay." she said again. "I'll sleep. Wake me up the moment you get back, Quasi!"

He nods in confirmation and climbs the rest of the way up the ladder. He looks back, and she's laying down, stroking the head of that dog that followed them in.

He smiles. Now the demon has saved someone and he has a friend.

It's mad and it's crazy and it's true. His laughter twines with the ringing of the bells.

He has a friend, his first friend in the world, and having a friend may just be even better than living out there.

* * *

_A/N:__ This chapter was quick to write, because I had a lot of it written out already on the computer xD I just copy-pasted a lot._

_I'm sorry I couldn't make Hughes live, but he needs to be the motivation for Mustang. _

_I hope you like this chapter ^^ Love to all, and please review with suggestions, things you like, what you're having for dinner, ect._

_I don't own anything except the plot._

_Bye!_

_~Ninjee_


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

She can't sleep a wink, not with those bells ringing. She supposes he didn't think of that.

_Ah, well. I'll just listen to the bells. I can sleep when the Mass is over…_

She realizes suddenly that she's never seen a Mass before. She believes in God, she supposes, mostly because of Rose, who is quite devout and tries to make it to service when she can. Rose taught them all to pray, especially when they're scared, like before, with the soldier with the empty eyes. But she's never seen what's happened within the church while those bells were ringing. She's never had a need to.

_I'll slip out. _she tells herself excitedly. _I'll watch. I'll listen. _

It's not the Mass itself that draws her, it's the adventure of sneaking down the stairs and into the church, without being seen.

She hopes poor Quasi won't mind, but she'll be back before he's done up there with the bells. He'll never know!

She hurries down the stairs, her feet light and making no noise. She escapes the tower to see and hear the mass unfolding below her. She laughs to herself. This ledge is high up, and they can't see her if they tried, even with her eye-catching gypsy clothes. And she can see everything; can hear the bells from above and the singing from below. This is perfect.

She leans over the rail to watch. The sermons are long, but some bits make sense to her. And the music is heavenly; nothing like the gypsy melodies she's memorized. Not better and not worse, but so amazingly beautiful. She does a quick twirl, above the crowd, her skirt fanning out and her hair getting in her face. She giggles in spite of the morose atmosphere.

It's rather dull, besides the music. Everyone is silent, heads bowed, praying.

She wonders what they're praying for. They have families. They have a roof, clothes, food, a fire to keep them warm.

At least, she assumes they do. They might be as poor as her family.

She goes back up the stairs then. The Mass is almost over.

Den follows her, shooting a longing look at all the people, but he seems to understand they wouldn't like his company and moves on. And Winry walks and wonders how it works that some people seem to have everything, while others get nothing.

She reaches the room and sits on the makeshift bed again, looking up at the place where Quasi disappeared. He appears a few minutes later, smiling.

"What did you think?"

"The bells? They were lovely!" she tells him enthusiastically.

He beams. "T-thanks." He looks back where he came from, hesitates, and then swallows. "Would...would you, uh, like to see the rest of the tower? Seeing as you'll be here for awhile…It'll be your home too."

"Oh, of course!" She smiles at him, and his cheeks go a little red. She helps Den up the ladder, and then climbs it herself, dashing over to examine the bells. He follows, just as enthusiastically.

"That's Little Sophia." he explains, pointing, "Those are Jeanne-Marie, Anne-Marie, Louise-Marie. Triplets, you know..." He gestures towards the largest bell. "And that's Big Marie."

Winry giggles, ducks inside the great bell. "Helloooooo…!"

The bell resonates with the force of her voice, and she twirls in place, beaming. Quasi laughs.

"She likes you."

"I'm glad."

He grabs her hand shyly and pulls her into the next room, and she gasps. "Oh, Quasi!"

He's made a model of the entire city, right up here in this tower. It's beautiful, and so detailed! She runs to it, examining everything, from the buildings that are carved to match perfectly, especially the church, and the people, and she laughs out loud when she sees them.

"It's the baker. And the florist! And the butcher! And, look, it's Nina and Alexander!" She picks up the little girl, smiling at her. "She comes to Ling's puppet shows. She loves them…" She turns back and looks at Quasi, who's blushing for real now. "These are amazing. I wish I could do this. You wouldn't catch me dancing for money, if I could…"

"But you're a wonderful dancer!" Quasi protested. "Don't you love it?"

"Yes, I do, but…I've always wanted to make things. Not like this exactly…I'd like to build things."

"Like...houses?"

She shrugs. "It's nothing I can describe, nothing we have here. The best I can describe is when you pull a rope, and the bell moves? Something like that, but it would make the bell move on its own, and you wouldn't have to pull a rope…" She feels a laugh bubble up in her throat. "I don't know what I'm saying."

Quasi shrugs. "Whatever it is, I hope you get to do it someday."

She smiles at him. "I hope so too."

He takes her hand again. "There's one more thing I'd like to show you." He turns and starts up another stairway, starting to run once she knows where they're going. When they burst out through a door, she's laughing, and she doesn't look up for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath.

Then, looking up, she gasps. The sun is setting, and the sky is red and gold, and they're so high up it seems that they must be sitting on the clouds, with the sunset happening for their own personal enjoyment.

"I bet no one in the world is seeing anything like this right now." she tells him, and drinks it in, standing with her eyes closed. She doesn't hear him answer, and she opens her eyes again, looking around for him.

He isn't there, and she feels a little rush of panic. Did he leave her up here?

She spins around again, and is about to panic in full, when a voice calls down. "Are you okay?"

He's sitting on the roof, like one of the gargoyles. She gasps. "Get down! You'll fall!"

He shrugs. "I've never fallen before. It's okay." He walked across the roof, not even holding onto anything as he does so, perfectly balanced after a lifetime of practice.

"Get down." she tells him again, through less worriedly.

"Winry, I promise I'm okay." he tells her, leaping down from the roof and landing on all fours like a cat. "The view's better from up there, that's all." His smile reassures her.

"Is it really that easy?" she asks him doubtfully, looking at the high drop. "To walk on the roof, I mean."

"It takes practice." he tells her. "You shouldn't try. But if you want to see, from up there, I could carry you."

She shakes her head, then claps a hand to her mouth.

"Wait. You told me before that guards are posted at the exits, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"You could carry me down! It wouldn't be near an exit, so they wouldn't see us! It's perfect!"

"Oh, no. No way. What if I drop you? I've never carried anyone before."

"You won't drop me! Please?"

"No."

"Please, Quasi." She swallows. "I'm in danger. We both know that…and I want to go home."

He looks away. "I'd miss you." he says quietly.

Her heart breaks a little, for this poor sweet boy who's locked up here all alone. "Then come with me. I told you, everyone would welcome you."

"I can't leave. I can't!"

"Why not?" She takes his hands in hers. "Everyone would like you, I'm sure."

"I'm a monster!"

"You're a person."

"I'm a demon." His voice chokes with a half-sob.

"You're not."

"Words won't change it." he tells her. "I'm resigned to it. But all those people, those people who love you, I can't put them in danger, don't you see, if anyone found out…."

She sighed. "Oh. I see now." And she does. She'd thought he was afraid, of what people would think, and perhaps he is, but more than that he's afraid of what would happen to them if Cornello found out. He's a selfless boy. She could see in his eyes, he was longing for that warm fire full of friendly faces.

"I'll carry you down." he says after a long silence. "But I won't come with you."

"Thank you." she tells him.

"Let's go now." he tells her, quiet. She can tell this makes him upset, but what else can they do? She has to escape.

She picks up Den and he lifts her carefully onto his back. She holds on with one arm around his neck. He jumps.

She's about to scream, when he grabs onto a gargoyle that's jutting out from the wall of the church and swings himself onto a ledge. He keeps on doing this, flying down with something that's close to the elegance of the acrobats that travel to Paris with the circus. They get down with almost no problem, and she sets Den, who is shaken, down on the road and looks over at Quasi.

"I'll miss you too." she whispers.

He looks away.

Incensed, she shakes his shoulder. "I _will._" she insists. "I really will."

"Will you come back?" he asks. "Ever?"

She nods. "I'll visit when I can. I promise." Struck by inspiration, she pulls her necklace off her neck. "And if you ever need me, use this. _When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in you hand._"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that this'll always let you find me." she tells him, sincere.

He nods, sliding it around his neck.

She looks at him for a long moment, and then hugs him tightly.

"Goodbye, my friend. I'll see you soon."

"Goodbye." he whispers, and starts to climb up the wall again.

She watches him until he's out of sight.

When he's gone, she sighs and picks Den off the ground, because the dog's stumbling about drunkenly and she's not sure that she'll make it home. Den barks at her confusedly, as if to ask what had just happened.

"Hush, _chien._" she whispers, smiling a little. "We're on the ground now, we must be quiet."

As she starts to walk away, the dog cradled in her arms, a hand grabs her shoulder, and she screams.

* * *

_A/N:__ Cliffhanger, hahaha! It's probably pretty easy to figure out what's gonna happen next, though. _

_I'm sorry this is rather short. It felt right to end it here. I'll have another one up soon._

_So, I don't own anything except the story line, because if I did, why on earth would I be writing fanfiction when I could write regular fiction?_

_Please make sure to R&R! I love reviews, they make me smile and giggle, and be generally very happy._

_Much love to all!_

_~Ninjee_


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A hand clamps over her mouth before her scream is anywhere near complete.

"Shut up." a voice growls, and she growls back, and bites his palm. He doesn't let go. _Sacrebleu!_

It's one of the guards, she thinks, she can see the uniform. He's saying something…

"Look, can you just be quiet; I only wanna talk to you." The man's saying, and with a start she realizes his grip on her has loosened. She tugs away.

"It's very impolite to try to talk to someone by scaring them out of their wits." she says, putting Den down and looking at her capturer.

_It's him._

She stumbles away from him, wanting to run, and he holds out a hand. "Wait, I just want to ask you something, alright? I just-god damn it-I'm not gonna hurt you."

She looks into those cold eyes and doesn't believe him.

"G-go away." she says, angry, and afraid.

"Not until you answer my question." the boy-he is only a boy, he's quite short and he doesn't look older than sixteen, like her-says, annoyed. "Just one question and then you can go, alright?"

"Liar. It's not one question. It's not a question at all. You soldiers, you're all the same, killers through and through."

"No, I'm not going to kill you. I just want to know if you've ever seen someone."

"I haven't."

"How do you know, when you don't even know what I'm talking about?"

She's starting to get over her fear and to just be angry. "I don't need to. You've seen a crime; you think I might know the person that did it. I'm not going to betray my friends."

"I'm not asking you to do that!" He's getting mad now too. "I just want to know if you've ever seen my-"

Suddenly his eyes go wide and he grabs her wrist and pulls her out of the street and over against a wall. Pinning her there, his hands on her wrists, and his face close to hers. She feels herself blush and scolds herself immediately.

She gives him her best glare and hisses "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Shut up." he hisses back, and right at that moment two guards turn the corner and stop.

She stiffens, scared, and the boy shifts, turning to look at the guards with an expression she can't see. They surprise her by starting to laugh.

"We'll leave you and your girl alone, Elric. Looks like you're settling in just fine."

They turn back, chuckling loudly. The moment they're gone, around the corner, he's let her go as though she's burning him, and turns around.

"How dare you." she says, shaken.

"I saved your life." he says, spinning around. "If it weren't for me you'd be on your way to the Palace of Justice, and what they do there isn't justice at all."

"I know." She hates to admit he's right.

"Look. Just answer one question. Please."

"…Fine." She will. He did save her, after all.

He exhales. "Have you ever seen someone with eyes like these? He'd be about fifteen." And then he takes out his eye.

No, he doesn't take out his eye; he takes out something that was on top of it. Like a piece of glass, very thin, and when he looks back at her, the black is gone, and his eyes is a vibrant and real color, the same gold, almost, as his hair. She starts with surprise. This eye isn't emotionless, it was full of strength and determination and bravery.

_"Mon Dieu." _ she breathes, one hand coming up to rest over her mouth. "What…who _are _you?"

"My name's Edward. Edward Elric." he says, quiet, taking out the other piece of glass and revaling that his other eyes is just as brilliant as the first. "I'm looking for my brother."

"You brother…?"

"His name's Alphonse." Edward says urgently. "He's got eyes like mine. My father had them, too. My mother doesn't, hers were green and her hair was brown. Have you seen…do you know…..any of them?"

She paces, trying to think. Muttering to herself. She searches her memory, but she can't recall ever seeing these eyes before. But brown hair, green eyes….maybe, maybe.

"I don't know." she admits. "I'm sorry. Truly. But…I can't recall anyone who looks like you."

His eyes darken, and he turns away, about to leave, and she grabs his arm before he can. "I'll ask my grandmother. She may know."

"And if she doesn't?"

"No one will."

He nods, looking at her as though a new thought has occurred to him. "Why did you get so scared? At the festival?"

"Your eyes-with those…in them, I suppose, they look terrifying. Empty."

"I'll bet all these soldier's brains are empty, and they scare you? Empty shouldn't be so terrifying." he mocks, smirking a little.

"_Au contraire, monsieur. _When you have seen the empty eyes of the dead, you learn to fear empty eyes." He had looked like a dead man walking, and that was what she'd been afraid of. She can see that now.

"Who was it?" he asks, and she can see he understands, a little. Perhaps he knows what it is to see someone die.

"My mother and father. Died protecting me from you soldiers. A man, he stepped in front of them and told them to run. He was a soldier on patrol, with two partners. One partner stood still, and did nothing, and the other killed my parents and the man who tried to protect them."

The words mean something to Edward, she notices. His shoulders tense. Then they hear the soldiers coming round again, and he hastily slides the glass back into his eyes. They don't seem so scary now, now that she knows what lie beneath.

"Ask your grandmother." he hisses. "Meet me here tomorrow. Go!"

"Goodbye, Edward." She hesitates a second, and then adds, "My name is Winry."

"Nice to meet you." he says, rolling his eyes again, and she can tell he thinks that an introduction is pointless right now. "Now go!"

She giggles softly and slides into the darkness.

When she finally gets back, it's a mess of hugs and laughter and Granny's dry words of annoyance that she was careless enough to get caught and relief that she escaped, and Rose's intense scolding and muttering that "the little girl is to be the death of me". Winry just laughs, because she's home, at last, at last, and tells Rose in a delighted tone meant to stir up trouble that she's getting to be as gray as Granny, and Rose chases her about until Den throws himself at their ankles and they fall over in a heap, giggling.

Ling is late coming back, Mei on his shoulders and Lanfan at his sides, and he playfully drops his little sister on the pile of dog and skirts that Winry and Rose are making, laughing too hard to even scold him for what he's done. Mei screams something in Chinese that leaves Lanfan covering up her giggles and Ling tickling her ferociously until she takes it back. Tobias immediately asks what exactly it was Mei said.

"Something very heartless and untrue." is all Ling will say, and Mei continues to giggle from both mirth and the incessant tickling she's received.

Winry smiles at her family, warmth filling her heart, but say nothing at all about the strange soldier for now. _Next morning,_ she tells herself, _I will ask next morning. When the reunion is over, and things have calmed down._

Mei presses her for stories of what is happening, but she just smiles and says firmly, "I'll tell tomorrow. We should all sleep."

"Yes, it's late." Ling agrees, his ears still a bit pink from whatever Mei has said to him. "Come on them, Princess, time for bed."

"Yes, _ge ge_." Mei singsongs, grinning.

* * *

The next morning, Mei begs for stories, and finally Winry relents. It doesn't help that Ling is giving her puppy dog eyes, too.

She describes the church and its magnificence, and Rose sighs and fingers the cross hung about her neck. Rose is devout, even though the guards will chase her off if she tries to go to Mass, so she must pray on her own. She rubbed off on Winry, a little. Winry's first instinct is now to pray when something seems wrong.

_That's what happened with Edward. _she thinks. She'd jumped to conclusions. It had been frightening, though.

She realizes that she's been sitting with a slightly glazed look for more than a minute, and quickly goes back to her storytelling, pretending she's only lost her train of thought. She describes Quasi, who Lanfan shakes her head over and wonders aloud what exactly is wrong with his eyes. Winry admits she doesn't know. "He had them covered the whole time, as though he had the plague and was afraid of me catching it."

"Strange." Lanfan says thoughtfully, and nods for Winry to continue.

She goes on to tell about her and Quasi's daring escape, and how she invited him to leave and be with them and that he refused.

"I hope Cornello hasn't been awful to him." Mei says with a worried frown. "He seems like a nice boy, even if he is cursed or a demon or some such."

Ling snorts quietly and leans over to mumble in Winry's ear that he hopes to God this isn't another infatuation. Mei is famous for them-even though she's only twelve, she's been "in love" with someone more times than Winry. It's a rather harmless infatuation with someone she has never and will never meet, usually, and most of the time she builds then up in her own head to be perfection personified, and then is bitterly disappointed when they do something wrong and show that they're human. Winry agrees with Ling, Mei doesn't need to get into all that.

If Mei's heard then, she's given no sign, and Winry smiles as though that's the end of her story. Ling gets up and walks away, whistling, and Lanfan goes to wake her grandfather. Everyone else stands and leaves as well, and Granny sighs and shifts, still sucking on her pipe. Winry glances around and lowers her voice.

"Granny, that's not the end of the story, listen, just as I'm going, this strange boy grabs me by the wrist, and starts to ask me for help. He says that he's looking for his brother and mother and can I help, because they're gypsies too."

She's said "boy" and not "soldier", and she's left out quite a bit, like she's protecting him, even though she's certain he doesn't need it.

"Said his mother had brown hair and green eyes and his brother and father were blonde. According to him they all tried to run years ago, out of Paris, and he and his father got separated from the mother and the brother. Anything you know about, Granny?"

"They were here, long time ago. Left and didn't come back. The father, he was an old friend. I hope to God they're all alright, but there's no tellin'." Granny tells her, chewing on the end of her pipe. "Which boy was it you met?"

"Said his name was Edward."

"That's the elder boy, then. His mother was one of the best ladies I ever knew. She used to watch you, when you were young, so your mama and papa could go out to earn their bread. She had her own two little ones, Edward and Alphonse, but still she looked after you, she was that generous. She loved you a good bit, girl."

Winry smiles a little. "What was her name?"

"Trisha. Her name was Trisha, and besides your mother, a better lady there never was." Granny says, smiling a little sadly. "I miss her a good bit, but if she didn't come back, then I suppose she's either dead or safe somewhere. I'd have thought she'd go and look for her husband, though-he was a good man as well, and she loved him with all her heart. Being without him wouldn't be something she'd choose. If they never found each other again, well…" Granny took her pipe out of her mouth, looking serious and uneasy. "I'd doubt she lived, if she didn't go and find him."

"I suppose I should tell him what you think, as well as the facts." Winry muses. "Thanks, Granny." She goes to the door and then hesitates. "Why didn't Mama and Papa talk about her?" She's never dropped the childish way of saying their names, never having grown past it.

"She was gone, wasn't she? She and her boys." Granny said. "And we all remembered how they'd cared for you. I suppose we didn't want to make you miss them. Especially after what happened to your parents."

Winry nods slowly. "I'm sorry I never knew her." she says finally.

Granny nods, her gaze unusually gentle. "Go on then, go and find him, girl. If his mother and brother are out there, I wish him all the luck on this earth in finding them."

Winry nods, feeling solemn, and leaves, coming up out of the secret entrance to the Court just as the sunrise is peeking out and casting long shadows on the street.

* * *

_A/N: Ninjee here! Yay, another chapter! Sorry this one took so long, business and writer's block got the best of me for a while. But it's finally up, so today, we celebrate!_

_Only the plot belongs to me, ect, ect, ect..._

_Please R&R! Reviews really do make me squeal with joy and get bursts of inspiration. If you follow, please please please leave me something, it seriously means so much. And thanks a million times over to all of you who have reviewed, I love you all dearly._

_Much love, Ninjee~ _


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It's cold, the chill of morning seeping into her skin. She glances around, making sure there's no one out and looking, and undoes the knot on her skirt. She wears trousers underneath it for just this purpose, and she rolls them down over her legs and pulls her skirt around her shoulders and head like a cape. She hunches her shoulders and arranges the cloak so that it covers her face, and to an observer she looks like an old man.

It's not a good disguise-she knows that. But it works from a distance, and people can be strangely unobservant. They're looking for gypsies. A strange old man isn't a gypsy, so they don't look any closer.

She heads to the church and settles down on the ground in the same corner where she and Edward met last night, hunching her shoulders as though she's asleep. An old man with no home, asleep on the street.

She watches people pass as she waits for him, leaning against the wall and curling her legs up next to her. Den settles down and lays his head on her knee.

And they wait.

* * *

Ed walks into the alley where he met her yesterday as soon as he can get away. Luckily, he's been paired with the same guards as last night, and they let him sneak off after only a few jokes about his "secret girl". It's annoying, but definitely not as much as he would've had to deal with if someone else had been patrolling with him.

He leans against the wall to wait for her, muttering to himself about possibilities if this lead doesn't go anywhere.

"Boo!" a voice hisses, and he jumps. The old man slumped along the wall, who'd looked fast asleep, looks up at him, and his eyes are laughing and blue.

No. _Her _eyes.

"I scared you!" the gypsy girl crows, seeming delighted with the prospect.

"Did not." he mutters childishly, looking away.

She grins and stands up, the cloak falling off her shoulders. She ties it around her waist, and he realizes that it's a skirt, not a cloak. "Did so." she says, grinning at him, her eyes glowing.

"Didn't!" he says, stubbornly, and she sticks out her tongue.

"You're a sore loser, _monsieur_."

"Do you have information for me or not?" he says impatiently, glaring at her. She sighs.

"Yes. My granny knew about your family."

"Where are they?" he asks quickly, and he feels hope building up in his chest.

The girl looks sad, and shakes her head. "We don't know."

"You don't-" His voice strangles itself halfway. How can she even come here, when she doesn't _know? _How dare she? How can she get his hopes up like that and then-

"I'm sorry." she says hastily. "But they ran, a long time ago. They're not in Paris anymore." She chews on her lip, looking nervous. "Granny says that nothing would've stopped your mother form getting back to your father, so if she didn't she's either forgotten somehow or dead. But she's not here in Paris. Granny would've known."

"Oh, yes, your Granny would've known." he says, deadpan, and sits down against the wall. "How can you be _sure_? How can you _know_ that she's not still here?"

"Because you mother knew my granny, and my mama and papa. She would've come. Your mother helped raise me! With my granny would've been a place where she could be safe, especially if she had a baby, too!" the girl says, her eyes flashing.

"Your granny knew me?" he says, because it's a strange thought. Someone had to have known them, though, he supposed.

The girl nods. "My mama and papa were great friends with yours. Apparently, your mother would watch you and your brother and I. She was my auntie, of sorts."

"Does that mean we're related, then?" For some reason, the suggestion unnerves him.

She shakes her head with a sigh. "Adopted auntie." she explains. "Trisha, her name is, right? No one's seen her for years, they thought that she met up with her husband again and they were together somewhere else."

"What's your name, again?" he asks her idly, trying to think, trying to understand. Genius, ha! He's can't even figure this out, what kind of a genius is he?

"Winry." she says, and when he looks up, her eyes are sympathetic. "Look, Edward, you'll find her. If she's alive, you'll be able to find her."

"What if she's not?" he says, and he can feel something raw in his voice, panic, maybe. If she's not there, what will he _do_?

"Then you'll find your brother. You can come live with the gypsies." she says. "Everyone will welcome you there." Then she sighs, and shakes her head. "This could all be a ruse. Why do I trust you so much?"

"I don't know." he says. "Guess I'm just trustworthy."

She makes a face at him, and he starts to pace. "What about that guy with the black hair?" he asks her. "He looked shifty. Does _he_ know anything?"

"Ling's not _shifty._" Winry says. "He's been here for years. He came after your mother left, all the Chinese did."

"Right." he says, continuing to pace, his thoughts whirling. "Right."

"What are you going to do, Edward?" she asks. "Keep going?"

She sounds sorry for him. He hates pity. Pity and fear, that's all he's gotten from anyone since his father died. "Of course I'm going to keep going, idiot. I'm not about to leave my brother, wherever the hell he is, all alone-"

"Of course you won't." she says, looking at him like he's all of a sudden gone mad. He glares at her.

"Damn it, woman, then _help_ me! Don't you know anything?" he says, his voice coming out louder than he means it to.

"Okay, well, he's _obviously_ not with the gypsies. Ask some others! You are in the military, should be a good amount of people you can have a chat with other than girls who don't know anything." she snaps, her eyes flaming.

"I don't trust them enough, besides Mustang, and he doesn't know a thing!"

"Well, then how do you expect me to help?"

"Don't, then!"

"Fine!"

"_Fine!"_

She whirls away, her skirt flying out around her. It's a very dramatic exit, her hair catching the sunrise along with the hoops in her ears, and as she's walking away, he realizes that this is his only lead, only _possibility_, and so with a jolt he runs after her.

He supposes he'll need to make an exception about this insufferable girl for his brother's sake.

* * *

_That idiotic, horrible- I was only trying to help- I could've stayed home, with my information, how would he have liked_ that-

"Wait, Winry, wait."

Uch.

She walked faster, not turning around, unwilling to even talk to the brat.

After a moment, he caught up with her, and his hand grabbed her elbow, and suddenly she was reminded of the night before, when he'd pulled her behind him to save her, and she had to fight a steady blush off her cheeks.

He sighs loudly and starts to pace again. "Look, I'm just- I'm stressed about this- And- I mean, I'm sorry, okay?" he blurts with obvious difficulty.

She rolls her eyes. "Not much of an apology, Edward."

"Look, you're the only one that can help me right now." he says, all the while glaring at her, so it feels more like an insult than a compliment. Nevertheless, a compliment it was, so she decides that this time she won't hold a grudge.

"You need to work on being nicer to girls." she says, her arms still crossed, but she makes sure her voice is light so he knows he's been forgiven. "I'm sorry, too, I suppose. I'll try and find out all I can for you."

He relaxes a little. "Thank you. Seriously. I thought I could do this by myself, but…"

"It hasn't worked so far." she finishes for him, smiling a little. "It's sunrise. We both should go, in any case. Good luck, Edward."

"Ed." he says, and she gives him another smile, a bigger one.

"Ed, then." she corrects herself, and whistles for Den, who returns from sniffing about some garbage. "I'll see you here tomorrow."

He salutes her, smiling a little. "I'll ask Mustang about any gypsies he's seen. Maybe he might've seen them."

She smiles. "Good luck."

He nods, and leaves, slinking off into the shadows so that you'd think he was a gypsy himself.

Once he's gone, she hears a shout from behind.

"_Sacrebleu_, Winry! I thought you were dead! You weren't there when we woke, and then I come out to see you and some stranger leaving! How many times have I told you, _ma chere_, _not _to go off with strange boys?!"

"R-rose?!" she squeaks, flushing again. "I wasn't- It-"

"Ah, yes, that is what they all say, _ma chere, _but I see you, I see a boy, and I see your red cheeks." Rose says, a slight smirk growing now that she knew her friend wasn't in danger.

"_Rose_!" she gasps. She whirls around, making sure that Ed really had gone and wasn't listening to this.

"I am sorry, Winry. I could not resist." Rose says, hiding a smile. "But I am glad to see you're alright."

"You must never speak of this." Winry mutters, walking quickly in the direction of the Court.

"Never speak of what?" Ling asks interestedly, he and Lanfan joining them. From nowhere, of course. He'd probably been listening the whole time.

"Our Winry has a beau." Rose says with a wink in his direction. Winry buries her face in her hands, groaning.

"Ling, don't believe a word of it." she says firmly, but he just laughs in delight.

"Who is this stranger of yours? He must come and meet us." Ling says cheerfully. "And then I shall determine if he is good enough for you."

"You shall determine?" Winry says indignantly. "If I did have a-a_ beau_, which I do not, it would be my decision-"

"Yes, yes." Ling says, waving his hand. "But must you hide him from us?"

"I've told you, I do _not_-"

"I can tell when you're lying." Ling says in singsong, and Lanfan smiles. She pats Winry on the arm.

"Don't worry. We will be glad to meet him, when you're ready."

"But I don't- I'm not-" Winry sputtered, and then gave up, sighing. "Oh, you are all hopeless. Hopeless romantics the lot of you!"

"And may God forbid we are anything else." Ling says cheerfully, grabbing Winry's hands and dancing her around for a moment, then smiling at Lanfan. She looks away, red spreading on her cheeks.

Rose raises a quick eyebrow at Winry, and she makes a face. Rose is now going to cook up a mad scheme to get them to confess that they love each other, all because of one blush. Rose really is the most hopeless of them all.

"I won't have anything to do with it." Winry mutters to her, pushing past to walk ahead.

* * *

Ed sighs and looks at the man in front of him. "So you don't know anything."

Mustang shakes his head. "I'm sorry. Truly. But the only two gypsies I ever captured were the two I told you about."

"And they weren't my mother and brother." Ed mutters, shaking his head. "Who were they, then?" he adds a little absently, lost in thought again.

"They were blonde. And they both had very bright blue eyes. Other than that, I'm not sure."

Ed nearly freezes from shock.

_Winry's parents…?_

* * *

_A/N: Sorry it's been so long! I've been on hiatus due to NaNoWriMo. My story was a little ahead, though, so I finished up this chapter so you'd have something to read while you waited for November to be over :) Hope you like!_

_I don't own FMA. I wish I did. _

_Please R&R!_

_Much Love, _

_~Ninjee_


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Elric? Is there something wrong?"

"No." he says, but his voice sounds odd, even to him. He tries to take his mind off it-_he can't be sure those are Winry's parents, after all-_and in doing so, asks something else that's been on his mind.

"Why don't you ever fight back?" he says, and he can't help but want to chuckle at the way Mustang suddenly squirms.

"Look, Mustang, I mean it. You could do something." Ed says, and Mustang looks at him.

"They'll hurt my wife. She can take care of herself, but they know that. They'll all come after her at once. She can't fight them all off, and I can't lose anyone else. I do what I can. Little things. But I can't risk losing her."

He nods, and sits on the curb, looking up at the smoke from chimneys and the church above them. "I didn't know. Sorry." He doesn't like apologizing, but it's a good reason. "Who's your wife?"

"Her name's Riza." Mustang says, something like joy in his voice. An emotion Ed remembers, vaguely, from when his father spoke of his mother. "We married last year. I've been asking her for a while, but she only just said yes." He glances up. "What about you, Elric? Leave any broken hearts behind?"

Winry's face flashes into his mind and he sits up with a jolt, shaking it away. She's an insufferable, annoying girl, what on earth would make him think of her? He must really be tired, exhausted, for things like that to come into his head, stupid things.

He shakes his head quickly in response to Mustang's question, but he can feel a blush spreading over his cheeks, and Mustang sees it too. The older man smirks as he stands up, and waves to him.

"See you tomorrow, Elric." he says, but there's a taunt in his voice, and Ed flushes again.

"Yeah." he says, too quickly, and Mustang smirks as he leaves.

* * *

Quasimodo sat on the roof and looked down, searching for a flash of blonde hair and purple skirts from the top of the tower. It's sort of useless to try, he knows it's too high to see anything clearly, but he looks anyway.

He hopes she's escaped. A girl like her didn't deserve to be locked up in a church all her life. She was too cheerful and bright.

"A star." he says aloud. "An angel."

An angel and a demon, friends. What a funny thought.

Cornello will be back soon.

This thought makes him shiver. It's funny, the cold man has never bothered him before, but now that he's known real kindness, he seems like a horror, a monster, or something sinister that would hide in a the dark and steal away people that are kind and good.

He didn't let the soldier go in. Winry's tent was burning, and he didn't let the soldiers stop it from burning down. He remembers the screams of anguish that came from the two girls, the braided one and the one with pink in her bangs, and how the boy with slanted eyes had to be held back by two others.

They didn't want to lose him, too, which is understandable. He hopes that they're happy, now.

He hopes she is home safe.

_If You listen to the prayers of a devil, then keep her safe. _he thinks, sliding off the roof and in to the tower, brushing his hands along the bells as he went.

Cornello will come up after mass just as he always does on Sundays. And he will know after he has climbed the steps that the girl is no longer here. And that Quasimodo has not only saved her, he has let her go.

He closes his eyes. Afraid, yes, there is fear. But not just for himself. He's afraid for her, as well, what will happen to her if the evil priest finds her.

"Good luck." he says aloud, out the window, and he wonders if she hears him. "Good luck, Winry."

The door opens.

_"What have you done?" _

The voice is icy and hard, and it sends a jolt down his spine that makes him flinch. He doesn't answer, doesn't turn around.

"_Foolish boy!" _Cornello snarls. "You've let her go, haven't you! The gypsy witch!"

"She wasn't a witch-"

"Of course she was!" the old man hollers, grabbing Quasimodo's shoulders and turning him around. "She's bewitched you! Taken advantage of your demonhood! You were doing so well, child, and now your sin has undone all your hard work."

"She was kind to me." he whispers.

"Obviously she was kind! She was tricking you, boy!"

Winry hadn't-couldn't-she'd _cared. _She had cared about him. She was a human being and she had cared about him, she was his friend, and Cornello was _wrong._

He closed his eyes, anticipating the hit before it came, and when Cornello's hand slapped across his cheek he tried to keep the tears from coming.

"You sad little fool." Cornello hissed. "I almost pity you." Another stinging slap, his other cheek this time, and he bit his lip so hard he could taste blood.

"Where did she go?"

"I don't know." he whispered, this was true.

"_Liar!_" Another slap. Quasimodo jammed his nails into his palms. _Don't cry out. Don't give him the satisfaction._

He kept his head bowed and listened to Cornello's heavy breathing. It was funny, really, he'd never so much as talked back before, and now all of a sudden he was taking hits for a girl he barely knew. And sneaking out to attend festivals.

He bit his lip again, this time to keep himself from laughing. Hysteria was bubbling up inside him, and he felt as though he would cry, or laugh, or scream, but surprised himself by doing none of the three.

Cornello scowled at him. "You have no reason to help her. You will never see her again and she did not care for you. Why do you insist upon keeping her secrets?"

_Because_, Quasimodo thought, _a friend is a friend, whether you see them once or a hundred times, and she didn't deserve to be hunted down. Didn't deserve to be killed. She is a friend and I will keep her secrets until the death of me._

"You are very loyal very quickly. She must have bewitched you. Poor child." Cornello said, but now he could hear the mocking in the man's voice. 'Well, I know the usual hideouts. I suppose..."

Quasimodo looked up, filled with fear but not letting it show on his face. His clenched fists were the only sign of his anger and fear.

"...I suppose we shall have to smoke her out, dear boy. It worked very well the first time, did it not?"

"That was you?" Quasimodo whispered, but the old priest was already sweeping out the door.

_Keep her safe._ he begged in silence. _Do not let her be killed. _

He slid down the ladder and walked out to the balcony where he could see the stained-glass windows of the church. He looked at one desperately.

_If there is a God, if you are He, please help her. She doesn't deserve it._

He wished there was more that he could do. But there was not. He could only hide in the tower like the coward that he was.

He retreated back to the tower and screamed in frustration, the sounds echoing and resonating with the bells. _Save her, please save her, she's the only person in the world who cares for me. _

And he cared for her. So much that it was almost pain, the feeling of losing her sharp in his heart.

He wondered if he loved her, and dismissed it. No, that wasn't it.

He remembered the way she'd spoken of the other gypsies. _They are my family,_ she'd said.

Family. The word made him picture warmth, warm arms around him and smiles, laughter, more people like her who could care for someone like him.

Oh, how he wished for that.

* * *

She met him again each morning for a week. They exchanged information, usually little tidbits that wouldn't help but he seemed to appreciate. She was asking everyone she could about Trisha Elric and what had happened to her, and Alphonse Elric and what had happened to him. Finally, Granny insisted that she bring Ed to the Court.

She was shocked. It was something that wasn't done, ever, wasn't secrecy their only control over this? But it was his home, originally, and Granny insisted.

"Granny wants you to come to the Court. You could ask people yourself, and talk to her. She remembers quite a bit about your mother." she told him. For some reason, she was almost nervous.

"That's a good idea." he said, slightly dubiously. "Thanks, I guess..."

She breathed out softly, and a shiver of joy went through her. "A warning-there will be dancing. Meet me here when it gets dark." She headed to the edge of the alley, where it connected with the street, and then thought of something else. She turned. "And don't bring anything too valuable. You won't have it by the end of the night."

She walked away, and heard him spluttering behind her, and laughed, her heart light.

When she comes back, he's there, and she smiles at him. He's not in his blue guardsman's uniform anymore, just a plain white shirt and black pants. He's got a bandage on his wrist, which she looks at hard until he tells her about it. (It's funny how already, after only a week, it is like she's known him forever, all of her life, and if her granny's tales are true, then perhaps she has.)

"Training accident." is what he says the bandage is. "I had to spar today. Stupid mistake, really, Teacher would be angry with me."

His teacher is a woman, who he paints as very formidable. She knows this already. Odd, how much she knows about him. They come here each day to share information but neither of them want to leave, and they end up talking, sitting against the wall. He's filling a void that she didn't know existed, and she can't figure out whether she's happy about this.

Already he knows that she likes to build things with hammer and nails, a very unwomanly thing to do, but gypsies have never really conformed in the first place. He knows about all her friends and her grandmother, and what little she remembers of her parents.

She knows that he wanted to be a scientist, not a soldier. He misses his father and his teacher and his home, and he doesn't know whether what he's doing is the right thing. He has a hot temper and he's short, nearly her height, and she's not the tallest. He hates when people mention his height, and so she does it sometimes, just to bother him.

He follows her to the outskirts, and she bites her lip. "I'll have to cover your eyes." she explains. "That was the condition of me taking you, you couldn't see where it was."

He looks at her, uncomprehending, and she sighs, and unwraps the kerchief from her hair. "Close your eyes."

"What? What kind of idiot made that condition?" he says, glaring at the kerchief.

"Fu."

"The old guy?"

"_Ed."_

"Fine, whatever." he grumbles mutinously, and she wraps her kerchief tightly over his eyes. She tried it on Ling, before, and he couldn't see a thing. Then just to make sure he wasn't poking fun, she tried it on Lanfan. Her report was the same.

"Ugh, Winry, I can't see." he mutters, feeling around in the air in front of him.

"That's the point, Ed." she mutters. "Okay, come on."

She takes both of his hands in hers and leads him along, grateful that he can't see her blush. She goes up to the graveyard and moves the grave, leads him in, and then puts the grave back in place. Before she takes off the blindfold, she lights the torch hanging from the wall.

She reaches over to the back of his head and undoes the knot, and his hand comes up and catches her wrist. "Stop." he says, his tone complaining. "You're catching my hair-_ow! God!"_

_"Sorry!" _she hisses, and pushes the kerchief up so his eyes are free. The knot's still tied. He rubs his eyes furiously.

"Are you okay?" she says, stepping around in front of him.

"I usually have these off by now." he says, stopping his rubbing and carefully reaching into his eye to remove the thin piece of glass there. "It starts to hurt after a while." Once they're both out, he looks at her.

She carefully reaches her arms over his shoulders and keeps working at the knot. She'd go around back again, but his eyes aren't quite in focus...

She looks straight into his eyes and gulps a little. Who is she kidding? She wants an excuse to say here and look at him, his lovely golden eyes. They fill her up, and she feels warm shivers going down her spine, delicious ones.

She undoes the knot and carefully ties it back in her hair, eyes still fixed on his. "There we are." she says, and her voice is almost too soft. He smiles a little, looking at her confusedly, and she grins back, cheerful.

(Even though she wants to kiss him, run her fingers over his cheeks and through his hair, and it's idiotic because she barely knows him even though she's talked to him so much and knows so much about him, even though he makes her feel safe. So yes, she thinks she may love this odd soldier boy, but she'd prefer not to think about that bit.)

(Even though she doesn't know how a person could fall in love so quickly. Love at first sight, the kind Mei falls into, always seems to end, and quick. And she doesn't want that to happen to her because she could learn to love this feeling.)

She takes his hand and starts to run, leading him through the catacombs, and in the next room is a door. She leads him to it, and sets him up in front before she throws it open.

"Welcome to the Court of Miracles."

* * *

_A/N: Yay! Next chapter is up!_

_I don't own. _

_No time for a long description today. Gotta go, loves! please R&R!_

_Much love, Ninjee_


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Whatever he'd expected from a legendary gypsy hideout, Ed thought, it hadn't been this.

It was a cavern, under the city, a labyrinth of tunnels and caves, or something like that. There were small fires all around and bright bits of cloths hanging on the walls, and different tunnels leading away from this huge cavern, probably leading to sleeping places.

He gaped at it for a minute, and then turned to Winry, who was smirking just a little. "Not what I expected." he said.

"No," she agreed, "I would think not." She tugged on his arm. "Come on. Granny's anxious to meet you."

She led him to one of the fires, and he was still trying to fit it all together, the high ceilings of the cavern and the many people inside, gypsies and fires and all the chatter and laughter.

"Granny, I'm home!" Winry called, and heads at a fire that was a few groups away turned, and a small girl with thick black braids ran towards them, a black-and-white cat following her.

"Winry! _Jie jie!_" she said with delight. "You are home!" She threw herself into the older girl's arms, laughing, and Winry spun her around in a circle before putting her down.

"Hello, Mei. This is Ed."

The tiny girl smiled at him, slightly less easily than she had at Winry. "Welcome." she said, pressing her palms together and bowing.

He nodded at her, unsure of what to do in response to the bow.

"Mei.' Winry said gently, "You know we don't bow here. In the West, we shake hands, or wave. I've taught you this."

"You've also taught us," another voice said, "that the way to greet a friend is a kiss on the cheek." Ed turned and saw the boy from China, who picked Mei up and sat her on his shoulders after some maneuvering. "And I don't think you'd wish us to go down the lane kissing people, would you? Anyway, most find it clever and exotic when we bow. They tip us more; why, I'll never know. Hello." he added to Ed. "I'm Ling Yao, this is my half sister, Mei Chang, and Lanfan should be along in a bit, Fu is speaking with her."

"Honestly, she shouldn't try to steal with him there." Mei said, sighing. "She knows that he does not approve."

"It was only some bread." Ling said mildly. "I wish that she would stop, too, but she can't. We need food. And if no one with hire any of us to work, we have to get it when we can."

"True." Mei acknowledged.

"Come on then. Where are Rose and Granny?" Winry said.

"Rose is right here, _ma chere." _a girl said, covering Winry's eyes for a second. She was the one with pink bangs and darker skin. "So this is Edward, yes? It's a pleasure. Pinkato is by the fire."

"Come on, Ed." Winry said, grabbing his elbow and leading him off. "Sorry about them. None of us are used to guests. You might get mobbed a bit, today."

"It's okay." he muttered. "As long as they don't steal my-_shit_." He felt at his pocket, but no use, his watch was gone.

"Oh, dear." Winry said. "_Lanfan!" _

"Yes?" a soft Chinese voice said from behind him.

"Lanfan, you know _full well_ that you aren't to steal from him, he's a guest." Winry said, exasperated. The girl sighed. She was tall and thin, a bit of a hollowness in her cheeks, with black hair and eyes. He hadn't seen her before, she hadn't been at the Festival like the other three.

"Give it back." he said, holding out his hand. She looked at him calmly.

"Why?"

"_Why? _Because it's _mine._" he said, irritated.

"You do not deserve it if you do not protect it." she said. "And it is silver. It could feed us, for many weeks."

"Just-just give it back." he said, starting to panic, just a little, because he couldn't lose that watch.

"Lanfan." Winry said. "There will be other pockets to pick. I know you want to help us, and thank you for that. But don't worry. We will get by, we always do."

She sighed, and pulled the watch from her pocket. "Go on then, and keep it." she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Look, I'd give it to you, okay?" Ed said, annoyed. "But it's...it's my father's. I promised I'd keep it safe."

It wasn't like him to give out information like this, so easily. But there was, again, this feeling of safety with these people. Thieves, maybe, but they'd keep his secrets.

A little bit of her expression changed. "I see. Well, keep your silver." she said, before turning and walking away,her feet silent as though she was a ghost.

"Thanks." he said, stuffing the watch back into his pocket, and Winry walked over to her grandmother, and he followed her.

"Granny, this is Ed."

"I see." The old woman was short and squat, with graying hair and tiny circular glasses, and a knowing smile as she smoked her pipe. "You have your father's eyes, boy."

"Yes." Ed said. "I do. You knew him?"

"Yes, I did. Your mother, too. Trisha." the woman said, nodding once, slowly.

"Can you tell me about them?" He knew he sounded strange, desperate, but he didn't care. Here was someone who'd known them, his mother and father, someone who could tell him about them and maybe about his brother, and she looked like she knew a million stories. And he wanted to have all the pieces, a million little bits of his father and mother and maybe it would help him find his mother and brother.

The old woman smiled. "Sit down, boy. Have I got some stories for you."

* * *

They talked for a long, long time. Winry watched them from across the room where she was sitting with Rose and Tobias, mostly discussing their upcoming wedding but also sneaking glances at Ed and Granny. Rose, of course, noticed, and seemed to be laughing the whole time.

Finally, someone from the other side of the rooms started playing his guitar. Soon, drums and tambourines and other instruments joined, until the cavern was filled with sound. Winry tilted her head back and closed her eyes, and felt her hands being caught up by someone.

She opened them to see Ling, grinning at her. "Come on then, La Esmeralda!" he cried, and the gypsies laughed. Everyone loved a good joke. When something came along like this, a nickname that bothered someone, no one would ever let it go.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, gypsies of all ages!" Ling shouted. "Winry Rockbell, the greatest dancer in the Court of Miracles!"

He then caught up her hands again and danced with her, laughing the whole time, and she went along, and soon there were others dancing with them. She spun and dipped and twirled and bent, and lost herself in the music, laughing, and then Ling passed her to Mei, and started to dance with Lanfan, and then Mei passed her on to Rose who danced with her for a while and then left her standing alone to dance with Tobias.

It had been strategic, the way Rose had done it. She'd left her standing right next to Granny and Ed.

"Want to dance?" she said brightly, holding out a hand. He looked at her skeptically.

"What, are you crazy?"

"No. Come on, it's easy." she insisted, grinning at him. She took his hands and pulled him to his feet, and started to lead him over to where everyone was dancing. She knew he didn't want to, but she'd get him to dance anyway-it was fun, sometimes, to irritate him about these little things.

He grumbled something obscene under his breath and she took his hand and placed it at her waist, and caught his other hand in hers. She put her free hand on his shoulder and spun.

He was clumsy at it, and the first few minutes were filled with his complaints and threats to leave-"I swear, Winry, I will find out where this place is and tell Cornello all about it"-but she just laughed and shook her head at him, and said cheerfully, "You can't come and have dinner with gypsies without dancing a bit, Ed!"

"Yes, you can. I was about to do just that-"

"But I stopped you."

"Who says I wanted to dance in the first place?"

"Despite your threats, you haven't left yet." she said, as he spun her around once. "There, see, you're getting the hang of it!"

He steps on her toe on purpose, and she glares at him. "_Ed."_

He mutters something about 'deserved it', but then looks away, half smirking. She glares at him, trying to force his attention back to her.

"Stop laughing!" she says.

"Why?" he says, his smirk going wider.

She hits him on top of his head with her fist. "That's why!"

"_Owww!" _he groans. "God, woman! You're so violent!"

"You deserved it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

* * *

Sometimes he hated her, Ed decided. But even though she'd hit him, he couldn't be angry. It was how she was, and though he hated it, he couldn't bring himself to hate her, and even though she'd forced him to dance, she'd quite matter-of-factly informed him that someone would get him dancing at some point, and it might as well be her instead of some girl who liked his face and wanted to get married, which she'd thought he'd hate more than dancing with her, and-

_Stop._

He was being an idiot, rambling on in his head like he was _nervous_ or something, which was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous, it was just Winry, with her blonde hair and blue eyes and smile and-

_Hydrogen H__elium Lithium Beryllium Boron Carbon Nitrogen Oxygen stop it stop it stop. It's just Winry._

"You okay, Ed?" she said with concern, and he swallowed once, quick.

"Fine, yeah, I'm fine."

"You looked really far away." she says. "Are you still worried about them, your mom and brother?"

She's wrong, but he grabs onto her reason quickly, and their feet stop moving. She's still got her arms around him, and he tries not to notice. _Stop it it's just Winry._

"Yeah. If they're not here, I don't know where to go." He pauses, looks up at her. "What do _you_ think I should do?"

Her expression is one of perfect shock, and he raises his eyebrows at her. "What?"

"You've never asked me for _my_ opinion before." she teases, and they start moving again, smoothly, and he seems why everyone says she's the best dancer in the Court. She's good. Damn good, actually.

"Yeah, I have." he argues, and she laughs, shaking her head.

"No, you haven't."

"Just answer the question." he grumbles, and her smile fades a little as she thinks.

"Well," she says, and then tilts her head to the side, thoughtful. "I don't know. My parents are dead; I know that, and so I've never had to look for them. But I have Granny, and you're all alone-well, except for me, of course-and if I didn't have a mother or father or Granny I think I'd go mad. So I think that you should keep going. It doesn't matter how long it takes, so long as you find them, and when you do you can burst in and tell your mother and brother that you've looked for them everywhere, all the corners of the globe..."

"The globe doesn't have corners, idiot, it's _round."_

She hits him again, on the shoulder, with the palm of her hand. "It's an expression! God, Ed, you know what I mean..." she trails off, looking at him in a long-suffering way, and he shakes his head at her.

"I just think you shouldn't give up." she says. "But..."

"But what?"

"...You could stay here. Be a gypsy. You were born one, after all, and no one would think your eyes were odd here, and..." She waves the hand that has been resting on his shoulder as they dance. The movements are automatic now, even though he notes in the back of his head that they aren't truly dancing anymore, just moving in small circles as they talk. "And you'd be safe. And I don't want you to go."

His feet stop and she stumbles. Her face goes red and she starts talking fast.

"I mean, you're one of my friends now, and I want to see you find you brother and everything and your mother but I'd miss you, I mean, if you left, because you're my friend and I wouldn't know whether you were okay, and-_stop laughing!"_

He can't help it. She smacks him again.

"Jerk!" she huffs, but there's a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth.

"Sorry." he mutters, but he isn't really, and she can tell.

"I guess you'd never stay here, not if you could find them." she says, and they're still stopped, not dancing anymore but they still have their arms around each other and he wonders if she notices.

"Probably not." he admits, and she looks resigned.

"I thought so. But," she adds, "we may find them yet."

He gives her a half smile. True, they might, but he's beginning to think that they won't.

* * *

He slips out of the gypsy hideout the next morning, Winry covering his eyes again, her fingers lingering on his skin in a way that seems accidental. (It isn't of course, but only she knows that.)

She look at him hard in the shadows of the alley and then hugs him goodbye. "I may not see you for a while." she says. "They've increased the guards. Rose is scared."

"You're gonna do what Rose tells you?" he says, raising an eyebrow, and she can feel his slight scathing.

"Yes." she says simply. "You don't know how afraid she was when she thought I died in the fire. Now, she is still scared. She thinks it's a mistake, helping you."

"Used to that." he mutters. "No one wanted to help out the beggar boy back home. Good thing Armstrong and Izumi helped me out, or I'd be gone, for sure."

She bites her lip. "I'm glad they did, too."

A slightly awkward silence follows, and finally he coughs, and she looks away.

"Stay safe." he says finally, and she nods.

"And you, as well."

* * *

_A/N: Yay! Next chapter's up! Hope you like it, loves. I wanted to make it Christmassy, but the setting's summer/spring, so no dice._

_Please R&R! I always appreciate it! And thanks to the anonymous reviewers, too! Love you guys!_

_I don't own._

_Much love, Ninjee_


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The next morning, things seemed hazy. He missed it all, the light and the laughter and even the dancing. Maybe Winry was right, maybe he had fit there somehow, like a birthright he hadn't known he had.

He was thinking about it, Winry and the Court and his brother all mixing together and muddling in his head, and then he was half jerked off his feet and broke out of his haze when Cornello grabbed his wrist and pulled him along after him as he walked quickly down the street. "Come, Elric. I have a job for you. Mustang and Bradley shall come as well."

Ed winced. Mustang was all right, of course, but Bradley was fiercely loyal to Cornello, and whatever this 'job' was, they would have to do it and do it well.

He kept his mouth shut as Bradley fell into step besides Cornello. The old man hadn't loosened his grip on Ed's wrist. It was actually starting to hurt.

His fingers twitched and finally he tugged his hand out of Cornello's grasp, trying to keep his face calm. No one noticed, and he congratulated himself.

Mustang joined them, walking with measured steps. "What is it we shall be doing, Judge?"

"We shall be investigating the miller. He is rumored to hide gypsies in that house of his, and as we all know, that is against the law."

Did the old man's eye linger on him for a second? Did he suspect anything?

Ed had never really thought about what would happen if he was caught. He'd always just assumed that it wouldn't happen. He'd never made a plan for what to do if it did.

And he knew gypsies now. He wouldn't be able to stand there and hurt them, not while looking them in the eyes.

This whole thing was a recipe for disaster. He was dead.

He went anyway. He didn't see any other choices, and the longer he could keep himself out of Cornello's suspicions, the better. Even if it meant going along with hunting down gypsies.

He'd find some way to help them, if any were caught.

* * *

_Perhaps we shall have to smoke her out…it worked very well the first time, didn't it, dear boy?_

Quasimodo shudders and wraps his arms closer around his knees. Cornello was back this morning, and announced with glee that he was going to begin his work, finding Winry, today.

The Lord's work, he had said.

Quasi said nothing, but inside he could feel himself screaming, and it was loud and hard and frantic.

He climbed to the very, very top of the tower and squinted towards the mill, trying to see. He wanted to help, but he didn't see how he could.

Well, he did, actually. He could go down the side of the church and try to help.

But what would Cornello do? What would the soldiers do?

_I'm too scared!_ he screamed in his head. _I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I'm scared. _

He lowered his head into his arms and perched there like a gargoyle. Waiting.

He didn't know what he was waiting for. But _smoke her out…it worked well before _was ringing in his ears.

He hoped to all the gods in all the world that he wouldn't see any smoke today.

Or ever.

* * *

Ed looked dubiously at the building in front of them. It didn't look like it could hold the miller's whole family, much less stolen gypsies. It was tiny, a farmer's wooden and straw-roofed cottage. Unless there was a trapdoor, there were no gypsies here.

"Conduct a thorough search, Bradley." Cornello said, waving a hand from inside his coach. Ed shifted on his horse.

_If you're in there, don't get caught. _he thought. He was a little worried, in spite of himself, but he didn't think anyone would notice. He didn't call attention to himself, and Cornello was distracted by the thought of catching some gypsies-the creep was nearly salivating.

The miller wrung his hands. "Please, sir, we never hid any fugitives-our house is always open to the weary traveler, but-"

"Silence!" Cornello said, glaring in their direction, and Ed's fist tightened on the reins. The old man continued, speaking with a sort of casual arrogance. _I am above you._ his voice said. "You will tell us the truth or stop your snivelley lies. Silence or truth. They are the only things I will hear. Now, tell me. Where have you hidden the gypsies?"

"We have seen none." the miller said.

"Liar." Cornello said, almost sadly. "Well, into your home with you then. I take it Bradley has finished searching…?"

"Yes, sir. No hidden rooms." Bradley said.

"Ah. A shame." Cornello sighed.

The miller and his family backed into their house fearfully and closed the door. Cornello nodded to Bradley, and before Ed knew what was happening, the door of the house was barred .

_There's always a catch, isn't there._ Ed thought.

Bradley took a torch from Mustang-both he and Bradley had one-and held it out to Ed. "Light the house."

"What?" Ed said, shocked. He really shouldn't have been surprised, after all that the old man had done, but this was over the top. Burn an innocent man's house down-with him in it?

No. No _way._

"You heard me. Burn it to the ground-I never want to see that miserable liar again."

A crowd had gathered by now. They were all watching, speaking in hushed tones. And he could tell they were scared. The crowd _radiated_ fear. And the sick bastard Cornello was enjoying it.

_Burn it to the ground._

There were people in there. This was sick. Totally sick.

Ed took the torch and looked at it. He felt Cornello's evil smile beaming down on him.

He looked up, and met Mustang's eyes. They begged with him not to do anything rash. He was dizzy, fear and horror and revulsion mixing together.

He looked into the crowd and met a pair of blue eyes under a heavy cloak. He wasn't sure if they belonged to the person he thought they did, but it was enough to remind him just _why_ he was going to do something rash. Right now.

He shoved the torch down into a rain-catching bucket that the miller kept outside his house.

As it fizzed out, he said, "I won't burn this house to the ground, not with people inside. A soldier's job is to _protect._"

The smile fell off Cornello's face. "Foolish boy." he hissed, almost sadly. But Ed knew it was an act, a fake show of sorrow for another human's 'sins'.

Ed stared at him defiantly, and was prepared for a punishment. What he didn't expect was Bradley taking another torch and setting fire to the building anyway.

Cornello laughed, not with his voice, but his eyes were mocking. _What will you do now, boy? You think yourself a hero? You are nothing._

Ed ran at the house and rammed his shoulder on the door. It took him three tries and a few mild burns to open it.

The miller and his family ran out, the children crying and the miller turning to Ed for a half a second, his _thank you, bless you_ clear in his eyes. Ed slumped, suddenly aware of pain in his shoulder. A mild burn, he catalogued, nothing serious-

Then he ran.

He ran in the direction of the city, and Cornello's goons raised their arrows.

Mustang turned away, he noticed out of the corner of his vision, he turned his head and didn't watch, screwing his eyes up so he couldn't see-

And Ed was running, and he saw the cloaked figure, and the blue eyes-

And then there was burning pain in his shoulder and he was falling and then nothing.

* * *

Winry screamed. She was not the only one who'd done so.

She'd been in the crowd, for the miller's home _was_ a gypsy haven, and she'd been sneaking the gypsies that were there out when they got wind of Cornello. With Ling's help, the job was done quickly, and the three that were there were now on their way to the Court, safe as could be. But Ed. Ed was hurt, he'd been shot, and he'd fallen into the river-

It was clear the goons believed him dead, and they didn't notice it when she dove into the water after him, abandoning her cloak and diving into the water with a clean slice, hardly a splash.

She searched for him. There was hardly any light here under the bridge, and he was sure to be unconscious from pain if nothing else. But finally, amid her fretting, she found him, floating in the murky water, a thin trail of blood coming from his arm and bubbles trailing from his nose.

She tugged him up to the surface. Was he breathing?

She didn't know. She couldn't do anything. Maybe he'd held his breath.

She let the two of them float with the current, down the river. As soon as she reached a place covered by reeds, she hauled him up out of the water and smacked his back, his stomach, trying to get the water out of him, if there was any.

Finally, he choked out a shuddering breath, and then started gulping loudly, and for a second his eyes focused on her, even behind the lenses, she could tell when he was looking, and then he passed out again.

She growled in frustration and shook him. This wasn't the time-!

A more rational part of her was saying that he was passed out, and he couldn't help it, and she was just going to attract the guards by making all that noise, but she wasn't listening to it.

Then there was a hand on her shoulder and she turned, ready to fight, almost itching to, and then she saw that it was Ling. "They're on the hunt for you again." he said soberly, with none of his usual cheer. "You and Edward."

"He's hurt. Can you help?"

"You know I will, little sister. Where?"

"To the church."

* * *

Quasi saw the smoke rising with a fear the filled him up horribly. He stared, every muscle in his body frozen, out at the city, out at the field in the distance where the smoke was rising.

He started when he heard knocking at the door. He'd been sitting is the same spot, his gargoyle spot, for a long while, staring at the smoke rising above the rooftops and praying for Winry's safety. For his own safety.

"Quasi!" a voice hisses. A girl's voice, exhausted and hopeful. "Quasi, are you here? I need help."

"Winry?" he said.

"Yes, it's me. Hurry, Ed's hurt!"

Someone was hurt? He wasn't sure if he could help exactly! But perhaps Archdeacon Marcoh could bring some supplies. He let them in.

Winry stumbled in with the arm of a boy over her shoulder. She was dragging him along, trying to keep him upright, and there was blood leaking from his shoulder. He had golden hair and a slightly angular face, and he was short. Taller than Quasimodo, but only by a little-and Quasimodo knew he was much smaller than other people. Most likely from living up here in the tower.

Winry laid the boy down on Quasimodo's bed and shook him by the shoulders. "Wake up." she said, her voice wavering. "Ed-Ed, just wake up, okay, you have to, I brought you here, we're safe now-"

"Winry?" Quasimodo asked. She seemed terrified, and she was shaking.

"Come on, Ed, w-wake up." she begged, and started to cry.

"W-winry?" he said, scared, because he did not know what to do in this sort of situation, in _any _situation, any situation at all and she was crying and it was horrible.

He tried putting his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at them, he blue eyes dripping.

"Y-you should sit down." he told her nervously. "He'll wake up soon." _I think._

"I'm not going anywhere." she said, shaking her head firmly. "Not until I know he's okay. He got shot, Quasi, he got shot because he was brave and tried to save a family and I can't leave him." The last word choked her, and she started to cry again. She grabbed the boy's limp hand. "He saved my life, all our lives, and I will not l-leave him."

The boy shifted. Winry's attention snapped back to him.

Quasi frowned. "I'll try to find the archdeacon. He may have some supplies." he said, and left.

He was worried too, he knew that. But he also felt just a little hollow in a way he didn't understand-because she was back, and she was here, and she had barely said hello, just fretted over the boy. He supposed he couldn't blame her, he hadn't woken up yet, the boy, just laid there. It hurt a bit, though. That she wasn't paying attention. He'd been worrying about her for days.

He could ignore it. Soon the boy would wake up and everything would be fine. And he'd tell this then, how it upset him. She doesn't need more pain right now.

When he returned with the Archdeacon, she was in the same spot she was in before, gripping the boy's hand so hard that it looks as though she might break it. He knelt down next to her and tapped her wrist.

"You don't want to break his hand." he said softly.

She flushed red and loosened her grip. "I'm sorry." she said in a mumble. "I'm just really w-worried. She wiped furiously at her eyes. "He's moved a little. Maybe he'll wake up."

The Archdeacon knelt on the boy's other side. "This boy is a soldier." he said, not sounding surprised. "What did he do?"

"He saved the miller's family from a fire. Just like Quasi saved me at the festival." Winry said. "They shot him."

The Archdeacon nodded and carefully took of the boy's jacket and shirt, examining the wound in his shoulder. "It's not as deep as it could be, praise God." he said finally. "But it may need to be stitched. I'll see after it is cleaned."

Winry sniffed, and the Archdeacon turned toward her with a smile and gripped her shoulder comfortingly. "Do not worry, child. He will be fine because of you. You have been very brave."

"I'm not brave. It's because of me that this happened. If-" She started to cry again in earnest and Quasi turned toward her and took her free hand. "-If he'd never known me, any of us gypsies, maybe he'd be okay right now-"

The boy shifted and grumbled something, half opening his eyes.

They all looked at him.

"'eez, 'inry, you're such a crybaby."

"Ed!" Winry yelped. "You're alive."

"'Course I'm alive, idiot, what else would I-_shit, shit that really hurts." _The boy looked down at his shoulder with a clinical air, and then winced. "Okay, I see your point, but-"

Winry hugged him tightly all of a sudden, laughing a little hysterically, and he muttered a curse when she jostled his shoulder but hugged her back anyway.

"God, you fell into the river, you absolute idiot. I thought you were-"

"Yeah, but I'm not, Win." She pulled away, her hand on his uninjured shoulder, and he shook his head at her. "I'm fine. You cry too much."

"S-shut up." she muttered, her cheeks red. "Lay down, the Archdeacon has to fix your shoulder."

He did so, with a loud complaint, but he did it.

Quasi looked at Winry and led her over to the overlook, sitting her down on the pile of straw that Marcoh had snuck up for a chair so he could watch and be comfortable. Watch the streets, that is. For soldiers arresting a gypsy with long blonde hair.

"I was worried about you." he said finally, and she looked fully at him for the first time since she'd come into his tower. She looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry I couldn't visit." she said. "I missed you too, Quasi."

He sat down in the wall where the overlook of the city was. "Yes." he said. "I missed you. A lot. You're my only friend, you know. And I never told, when Cornello came and wanted to find you, I never told. I never showed him this." He pulled the necklace out from under his shirt. "Never."

"Thank you." Winry said, and one more tear traced down her cheek. "I have to get home. Everyone will be worried." she added, closing her eyes. "I can't worry Rose or Granny like that. I'll come back, I'll try, I _promise, _Quasi."

He smiled. "I'll wait."

She hugged him tightly and then kissed his cheek, quickly. "My friend." she said. "I'll never find a friend who's as good a friend as you."

He touched the spot where she kissed. "Thank you."

She laughed, and walked to where the boy was being stitched up. "I have to go back, Ed. Everyone will be worrying. They may think I'm dead, too."

"Don't." he said. "It's too dangerous, Win-"

"I'm a gypsy. I know the corners and twists of this city better than anyone in the world." she said. "Don't worry about me. I promise you I'll be safe." She took his hand and squeezed it, and then pressed it to her cheek. "I'll come back as soon as I can."

She stood and walked towards the door. "Don't do anything stupid." the boy said. She turned, raising an eyebrow.

"When have I ever?"

"A lot." he said, laughing. "Saving me was a pretty dumb move. But good luck, Win."

She smiled at him, and vanished.

* * *

_A/N: Wooo! Another chapter done! I'm sorry this one took a while. I had a lot of work that got in the way. But I finished, finally!_

_I hope you like how it's going so far! If you have questions or anything, just review. I love me the reviews.  
_

_Also, I don't own anything except the hopefully excellent plot of the story.  
_

_Much love, Ninjee  
_


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The room was cold and his shoulder was burning. That was all he could feel or think about for a while.

Well, besides worrying like an idiot about Winry.

And wondering where he was, but he pushed that to the back of his mind and waited for the pain to go away.

It started to when the old man was finished stitching up his wound and started binding it. The pressure helped a little bit.

When the old man was done, Ed sat up and looked around. "Where am I?" he asked, and his voice was level, and he was glad he didn't sound scared.

"You're in the top of Notre Dame's bell tower." the man says neutrally. "I am Archdeacon Marcoh."

"I'm Edward Elric."

"The soldier boy." It's not a question.

"Yeah." He remembers something fuzzy, a voice maybe. "Is anyone else up here?"

"Just Quasimodo." Marcoh says. "He rings the bells. You'll have no trouble from him."

"Uh-huh." Ed says, not convinced. "And where is he?"

"Hiding, I'd assume. He's lived here all his life-you can't expect him to be comfortable around another person."

"All his _life_?" Poor kid.

"Judge Cornello-" –and there is a definite tightness in Marcoh's voice- "-found him on the steps of the church as a baby. After I informed him that the civil Christian thing to do would be to take the baby in, he agreed, and Quasimodo has rung the bells here ever since."

He doesn't know what to think about that. It's weird to say the least, horrible to say the most. Leaving a kid up here to grow up all alone?

"Is he, you know, okay?" he asks the old man doubtfully. He doesn't want some crazy kid lurking in the corners of the tower, especially when he can't run away, being hurt like this.

"If you're questioning his sanity, I assure you he's fine. However, he refuses to let people see his eyes. Don't question it, just let it go."

"His _eyes?_ Something I can sympathize with, I guess." Ed says, frowning. He's wearing his contacts now, but imagine if he hadn't been. He wouldn't have been in a house of God recovering from an arrow wound, anyway.

"He has been told all his like that he has demon's eyes and that if he looks at anyone with them he will infect them with evil. I've never even seen them-I doubt he has seen then, either. There are no mirrors here in the tower. It would not be a stretch for Cornello to tell him that his eyes were odd when they are truly just a normal boy's eyes-but that is just a speculation." Marcoh sighed. "But do not try to get him to remove his covering. He won't do it."

"I bet I could-"

"I tried once. He is always so kind, but he hit me, and scratched, and bit. After, he said that he couldn't bear it if he infected me." Marcoh shook his head. "Believe me, it is a much better idea to leave things as they are."

* * *

"Winry!"

Ten voices shout for her the moment she enters the Court.

"Where's Ed?" Rose demands, pushing to the front.

"In the bell tower…? He, uh, claimed sanctuary…" Winry stammered, trying to draw a breath through the tight hug Rose was giving her.

"_Mon Dieu, _Winry, have I taught you nothing? The safest place is with family! You need to take him here!" Rose said, jerking a hand through her bangs.

"I got him to Quasi. Quasi'll look after him." Winry protested, and Rose relaxed a little, but not so that she looked calm.

"Winry, what if the Judge goes into the tower? Hadn't you thought of that? He is in the church so often! He will find them, and we shall all be doomed!" Rose was slowly working herself into a state. Tobias put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently, and she yanked away.

"Well?" Rose demanded. "Did you think of that? Did you think at _all_?"

"I did what I could." Winry shouted, a hand twisting in her skirt. "He was hurt, Rose. He was _hurt._ He got shot, with an arrow, he got shot and he needed help, some real help, not this lot of gypsies in this cold, empty, stone tunnel."

"Don't say such things!" Rose shouted back. "This is our home-"

"_He would have died._" Winry screams, fisting her fingers in her hair and tugging, mad with worry. "What did you want me to _do,_ Rose? He would have _died_ down here in the cold and you _know _it."

Rose stopped. She looked like she wanted to yell-wanted to yell and scream and berate Winry for not thinking about this, about her options, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I see." Rose said, and Winry heard how tired her friend was, how tired all the worrying had made her.

"I see." Rose repeated, her voice cracking, and Winry reached out to her friend and pulled her close, and when Rose fully relaxed against her she realized how incredibly _scared_ Rose had been these past weeks.

"_Mon Dieu, _Winry." Rose said into her shoulder. "You have taken so many risks for this boy. Every time you left, I thought you would never come back. That you would die like your parents, just a scream in an alley with no one to hear. And I don't want that for you, I don't! But I don't want you to be unhappy, and so all I need to know is this-is he _worth_ all this?"

"Yes." Winry whispered. There was nothing else to say. And, God, maybe she wished that things would make themselves okay, but they wouldn't. And all this boy had was a misguided soldier who couldn't truly stand up for those who deserved it, and he has her. And she couldn't fail him.

(And, yes, maybe she was a little bit in love with him. Or perhaps a lot. But, by God, she would save him, save them all, if it was the last think she ever did.)

Rose nodded at her yes, as though it was the answer she'd been expecting. "Well, then." she said. "What is it we are going to do?"

Winry felt a rush or relief as she saw that everyone, every gypsy in the Court, was listening.

Gypsies fought and bled for one thing-other gypsies. They protected their own, and ever since Ed had visited, they'd know he was one of them-and they would protect him.

And knowing that, Winry felt overthrown with the force of her relief, knowing that Ed had so many people ready to fight for him.

She also realized, with a jolt, how very tired she was. he felt herself wobble, and Rose laughed, sounding choked.

"You are going to sleep." Rose said gently. "And when you wake, we will rescue Edward, should he need it."

Winry fell asleep with her head on Rose's thigh, the older girl stroking her hair, the low murmur of voices rocking her, soft, to sleep.

* * *

Quasimodo watched the boy-Edward-with careful eyes. Not for the first time in the last few minutes, he checked his scarf to make sure it was secure. It wouldn't help matters if he infected the boy he was protecting for Winry.

Said boy was currently asleep, a marvel due to the pain he must have been in, but Quasi had checked and he was not passed out, so he must be sleeping. He snored softly, and Quasi would have thought this was irritating, but right now, he didn't mind the company. The boy's shirt was pushed up with one hand as he slept, his stomach out, and he looked peaceful, sleeping like that, and not as old.

He looked like a boy, sleeping, not a man. Even in his ragged uniform.

He started awake, and Quasi recognized the signs of a bad dream easily. He checked his scarf reflexively and then went to him, wanting to help somehow, not knowing if he could.

The boy's eyes were open. They were an inky black that didn't really fit with his gold hair, or his pale skin. Quasi watched him for a moment, puzzling, but when the boy tried to sit up, he spoke.

"Don't. Your arm is still hurt." he said, and they boy's eyes flashed to him.

"Are you Quasimodo?"

"Yes."

"You're the one who saved Winry from that fire at the festival."

"Oh. Yes." he said hesitantly.

"I was there. I wanted to help, but I didn't know her yet and I couldn't attract suspicion, being a soldier was my best chance of-anyway. Thank you. For saving her." The boy sat up, carefully, and Quasi didn't try to stop him this time. And once he was sitting up comfortably, the boy held out a hand. "I'm Ed."

Quasi took his hand and shook it warily, not bothering to repeat his own name.

"Is Win back yet?" Ed asked, looking around hurriedly as though Winry would burst from a closet somewhere. Quasi marveled at the easy way he said her name. 'Win', like they'd known each other for years apon years.

"No." Quasi said quietly, knowing there was fear in his voice and hating himself for it. "I'm sorry, she didn't-"

"Damn it." Ed said, flopping backwards, his head hitting the wall with a worryingly loud _clunk._ "_Damn it."_ he hissed again, rubbing the back of his head.

"Be-um, be careful." Quasi said cautiously. This did sort of explain why Winry had been so worried, he assumed, for Ed seemed like he hurt himself quite easily.

"Yeah, yeah." the boy said, waving a hand. "I got it." He then started to stand.

Quasi watched and caught him by the elbows when he tipped forward. "You need rest."

"No way. I've gotta find Winry-the other gypsies-my brother-everyone needs me."

Quasi frowns. "You won't be any use when you can't even _stand._"

Ed set his jaw and Quasi could tell that he was prepared to argue more, to yell and scream and generally make it very difficult to force him to stop trying to leave the tower and help Winry. But that changed in a second when Quasi heard three bells ring a floor below-Marcoh's signal.

His mind went blank and he began to shake, remembering the hit to his face earlier, so scared he felt odd and separated from the world, like there was a layer of silence between him and anything else.

It wasn't truly rational to be so scared-it had been only one hit, and if need be, Quasi knew how to run-but the boy in the bell tower was slowly learning that fear was never rational. It took all it could and came back for more, unless you learned to fight it.

Ed was still here. He realized it dully, through the layer, and it shook him out of his stupor.

"Hide." he mumbled hoarsely. Then, speaking louder, he said it again, Ed looking at him like he'd gone mad, and perhaps he had. "Hide!"

"You're shaking-what-"

"Cornello is coming." he said, and watched the fear spread over Ed's pale face. "_Hide!"_

"Where?" Ed hissed, whispering as though the evil old man was outside the door at that very moment.

Quasi's eyes darted across the room. There were no niches, no places to hid a young man with a hurt shoulder, and he thought wildly that maybe _he_ could hide, he could go out on the roof and Ed could pretend to be Quasimodo, let his hair out of its braid and-

A table. The room had a table, where he ate, where he carved.

"Under there." he said, pointing shakily.

Ed glanced at it like he would protest, then quietly eased himself under, wary of his injury.

Quasi straightened up quickly, tugging at the cloth that lay across the table, the cloth covered in wood shavings and chunks of wood from his carvings. "I'm sorry." he said. "Don't make a sound."

He muttered it to himself, walking around wildly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" until he didn't know who he was saying it to, just saying it for something to say-

He stopped, and took a deep breath. "It's going to be fine." he muttered to himself.

"Who on Earth are you talking to, boy?"

The voice was deceptively pleasant. Quasi turned slowly.

"The gargoyles." he said. "My friends."

"But they are not real, are they, boy?" Cornello said lightly, and Quasi nodded, knowing the routine, they'd done this before.

"No, they're just stone." he said. "Just stone. Not real friends." He tightened a fist, pretended to be angry. "And that gypsy wasn't my true friend either. She did not come back. She lied."

"You must stop chasing silly dreams, my boy. No one would be your friend. Not truly. You are cursed, after all." A hand on his shoulder, tight. Too tight.

"Yes, Master." he whispered, trying to sound remorseful. "You are right, Master. You are always right."

_Oh, God, please God, have mercy, don't let him look under the table, please God don't let him look, I know I don't deserve it but they do, please, God, Winry does, and Ed, and please, please save them._ Quasi begged, wishing he could fold his hands and pray properly, the way Marcoh had taught him, and he added a prayer for Marcoh, too, remembering a day when the old man had told him he was loved by God and taught him to pray even if Quasi had never believed it, but it was nice to know, you know, that someone thought so.

"How am I to fix it, Master?" he asked, trying to keep Cornello distracted. "How do I prove myself to God? I want to be worthy. I don't want to be a demon."

He wouldn't mind staying one if he could have friends. Gypsies. He would run away with the gypsies. He kept thinking that, rolling it over in his head, a decision he hadn't known he'd made but one that now seemed to be the obvious one.

Cornello's hand was tight on his shoulder, still.

"There is no way. You are cursed. You will always be what you are." Cornello implanted false sadness into his tone. "You must stay here. Always. We cannot run the risk of infecting the people of this city, can we?"

"No, Master."

_Keep your head bowed. Be good. Don't do anything too sudden. You have never known anything but this. Think how you used to, when this was all there was in the world. _

He fought to keep his body lax, to not tense up. Cornello would notice. He noticed everything.

He let his shoulders slump as though he was disappointed by what Cornello had told him, and then the old man let him go. For one blessed moment Quasi thought maybe he was leaving, but then he walked over to the table.

Oh, no. Ed was under the table. _Ed was under the table. _

_Don't let him see you afraid. He'll-he'll realize and then you're done for and-_

"Sit down, dear boy." Cornello said, holding out a hand, and sitting down at the table. "I have brought food."

"T-thank you, Master." Quasi said, sitting down at the table and taking a piece of bread. He tried to eat some, but it felt like metal going down his throat, too dry and cold and sharp to be food.

"Are you all right, my boy? You do not seem hungry."

"I am f-fine, Master." he said. _Please don't look under the table._

He heard the worst noise of his life. A soft, quiet sneeze.

And Cornello, looking at Quasi in fake concern, could tell easily that the sneeze had not come from him.

_Oh, God, please, no._

* * *

_A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry this took so long to get up. I've been busy like you would not believe. _

_And I hope no one's too mad about the cliffhanger, lol. _

_I think there's only a few more chapters until this is done! Until then, please R&R._

_Also, I own nothing but plot. _

_Much love, Ninjee_


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Quasi closed his eyes and tried to look as though he had just sneezed, but the damage was done. He could see Cornello's mind working, furiously, could see him recalling Quasi's earlier reluctance to sit at the table and the sneeze, could see him putting it all together.

He squeezed his eyes tighter, then thought that Ed deserved to be looked at. So that perhaps he could say he was sorry, somehow.

He opened his eyes and watched with terror as Cornello leaned over in his chair and yanked the tablecloth aside, looking down.

He flinched for a blow that never came. Cornello's eyes simply narrowed, searching for a second. And then he straightened, looking at Quasi again.

He looked as though he wanted to say something, but he didn't, just gave Quasi a highly suspicious look and then stood, slowly.

"I am afraid I will have to leave you now, dear boy. I must find those wretched gypsies." he said, and then added casually, "Of course, with the new information, it will be far easier."

"New information?" Quasi asked, without truly meaning to. He had meant to stay silent. He watched Cornello's back as the old man walked to the door, not truly expecting an answer.

"Oh, yes." Cornello said, turning at the doorway. "I now know the location of the Court of Miracles. We shall attack at dawn." He smiled at Quasi, who was rigid with shock. "Well, good afternoon, Quasimodo."

He closed the door behind him, and Quasi listened to his retreating steps, laying his head on the table and breathing out a sigh of relief. He heard a muttered curse from under the table.

He ducked down, and there was no one there.

"Look up." a voice hissed, and he did so. Ed was holding himself up in the frame of the table, arms straining. The soldier boy's back was pressed against the underside of the tabletop, and Quasi marveled at it for a moment. It was really quite a clever hiding spot.

"That can't be good for your shoulder." he told the boy mildly.

"My arms must've locked up or something." Ed muttered. "Can you help?"

Quasi stretched out his arms, awkwardly trying to get Ed down from his place under the table.

They managed, and the moment Ed was free he was standing up, stumbling towards the door.

"Don't!" Quasi tried to say, but Ed cut him off with a look.

"You heard him, Quasi, he knows where the Court is. Where _Winry_ is. I'm going to find her. Maybe I can warn them somehow." Ed said firmly, walking more normally now.

"Do you even know the _way?_" Quasi said, feeling rather skeptical.

Ed stopped, standing in the doorway. He didn't say anything.

"_Do_ you?" Quasi asked, more curious than anything, really. But the glare Ed shot at him was venomous.

"What, and you do?" he snapped. "You just sit up here in your damn tower all day, what do you know about it?"

Quasi frowned and looked down. "No more than you know, apparently." he observed.

He heard an aggravated growl from the doorway, but didn't look up.

"Look." It was Ed's voice, and all of a sudden he just sounded tired. "I'm just saying, you don't know anything about all of this either."

"I saved Winry's life." Quasi said quietly. "She was trapped in here, and there were guards at the entrances, and I carried her-I carried her down from the tower to the ground, and I-" He stopped, closing his eyes. "And she wants me to come with her. And live in the Court. And be a gypsy."

He didn't add _so there,_ but he wanted to. Perhaps it's childish, but he wanted to remind himself that Winry cared about him, too.

Ed looked at him, but his eyes were still so curiously blank. He wondered why, in the back of his mind.

"Okay." Ed said. "Okay. Look, Quasi. I'm not saying you don't care about Win or anything. I'm just-" He cut himself off. "You just don't know anything about the Court. At least I've _been _there before."

"Fine, then." He doesn't like admitting it, but Ed is right. "How do we get there?"

"I…."

"You don't know, do you."

"Sorry."

Quasi groaned and sat down at the table again, putting his head in his hands. As he does, the necklace Winry gave him (was it only a few weeks ago? It seems much longer) falls out of his shirt.

He stares at it, only vaguely aware of Ed saying "Hey, what's that you're wearing?" because it's like a bell rings in his mind.

_When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand._

"It's a map." he says aloud.

"Huh?" Ed had been pacing on the other end of the room, voicing theories about how they could find the Court.

"This, it's a map. When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand." He tugged the pendant off and looked at it more closely, Ed coming to stand at his shoulder and look at it too. They studied it for a moment, and Quasi felt a smile spread over his face. "I think this is the church. But I suppose I should check."

He stood and ran to the window, grabbed onto one of the gargoyles in order to swing himself onto the roof. He heard Ed's startled yell from below him.

He closed his eyes for a moment and felt the wind on his face, then stood, opening his eyes again and looked at the pendant and the city, back and forth until he was sure. Then he laughed aloud, without any true reason to, just glad-he'd done it.

"Look, look." he said eagerly, holding the pendant out and shaking it in a way that doesn't actually allow Ed to see it at all. "It's the city. That's the church, and that little X there-that _must_ be the Court."

Ed caught his wrist, making him stop with the shaking, and after looking at it for a minute, he sighed. "You sure about that?"

"I've lived up here for years. There's not much to do besides stare at the city below-I know what it looks like. From above."

Ed smiled a little. "Alright, I trust you. Good job, kid."

Quasi beamed. "I feel very clever, now." he confessed, and Ed shot him a surprised look.

"Don't get cocky yet. We've still gotta save them." is all he said.

But Quasi still had to resist skipping with joy that _he did it, he figured it out _on the way down the tower steps. Ed seemed to notice his joy, and shook his head quietly, but didn't say a word.

Quasi had never been proud of himself before. It was an odd feeling to get used to. He's certain that Cornello would say it was a sin, but it sent a glow over him, a happy one.

He didn't care anymore, he decided, not one bit.

* * *

The kid sank into the shadows easily, better than any gypsy he'd ever seen, and Ed was duly amazed. "Where'd you learn to hide in plain sight like that?"

Quasi looked down. "I sneak into church sometimes. I hide in the rafters. But Cornello doesn't like it. He looks up a lot. And if he finds me…"

The kid gave him a sort of half-shrug. He didn't seem as cheerful as before, and Ed wanted to feel good about that-because smiling to yourself like you just won the damn world is _wrong_ when a friend is in trouble-but instead he felt bad. Quasi obviously doesn't smile much. Hell, he's probably never even figured anything out by himself before, from the sound of it.

He was extremely pitiable, like a cat in the rain. Maybe that was why Win liked him so much. Not to mention he seemed like a good kid, despite all the weirdness he has going on. With never seeing another human soul besides an archdeacon and a corrupt judge for his whole life, up until now. All that.

When they reached the place marked on the pendant, they found themselves in a graveyard. Ed stood in the entrance and looked around. "So where do you think the entrance is?"

"I don't know." Quasi said, his mouth twisting into a thoughtful frown. "We should look for the symbol that marks this spot, though."

The symbol was an X, with curled ends, an unremarkable symbol. But it was a valid theory, and Ed nodded to the kid and set to looking for it.

They found it finally on a rather large grave, the coffin protruding from the ground. Ed rapped the top with his knuckles and listened to the echoing. Then, with Quasi's help, he lifted the top of the coffin off, revealing a set of stairs.

He looked at the kid, who looked back at him steadily. "You ready for this?"

"Yes." Quasi said firmly. "Now hurry. We're wasting time."

They walked into the tunnel in silence, trying to be as silent and careful as possible.

When they finally found the Court (after a few wrong turns, Ed swearing that he was _trying_ to remember where Winry had taken him, but he had been _blindfolded,_ after all) they walked in to an uproar.

There were a hundred gypsies, more, even, and they were all fighting, voices raised, about whether they should fight, according to what Ed could hear.

Then everyone seemed to notice them standing there, and then silence stretched over the Court. Quasi hid behind Ed, trying to lose himself in Ed's shadow. Ed patted him on the head absently, scanning the crowd for Winry.

"ED!" he heard, and then something whacked him in the back of the head.

"_Ow!_ Jesus, Winry, I go all this way just to find you and this is how you welcome me?"

"You were supposed to _stay in the tower! _With Quasi! You were safe there!"

"was not, Cornello came in, I had to hide under the table-'

"He sneezed." Quasi said, uneasily. "We were almost found out. And then Cornello said-'

"Said he knew where the Court was, and he was gonna attack at dawn." Ed said, and the words felt like a dark cloud hanging over everyone. "That's all. We came straight here to warn you. To get everyone out."

"Get out?" Ling, the kid with the black hair and squinty eyes, shouted. "Get out? We know not the meaning of the word! We will fight, isn't that right, Lanfan?"

The girl next to him nodded her head firmly.

"Fight? You're mad!" Rose, the one with pink bangs, shouted. "Cornello has an _army!_ We wouldn't last a moment!"

The fight broke out again, but at least this time Ed knew what they were arguing about.

Winry threw her arms around Quasi, and then pulled away, put her hands on his shoulders. "You're very brave for coming here." she said. "I know how afraid you are. Thank you, my friend."

He blushed and looked down.

"Look at me." Winry said gently. "You found us, you and Ed, that was clever and brave."

He looks up. "Do you-do you still want me? Here? I want-I want to be a gypsy, and be free, and never be afraid again. I could help."

"You've already saved us." Winry said. "Quasi, you'll always be welcome here. From now on we're your family, okay?"

Quasi nodded. Ed turned to look at the battling gypsies, his throat tight. He swallowed a couple of times to get rid of the feeling, the damn goodness of the whole thing, of Winry caring so much and the way Quasi's face lit up when she said they were family sticking in his throat.

"We won't flee." one of the gypsies shouted. "This is out home and we can fight for it!"

"I'm sure you can." a voice said, and they all turned and looked with horror as Judge Cornello walked into the Court of Miracles.

"Obviously, you can fight. Indeed, any cretin can fight. But can you win?" he continued. "That, I sincerely doubt."

Quasi trembled, and Winry and Ed both stepped in front of him at the same time.

"No use hiding, dear boy." Cornello said casually. "I can see you. However, I may not arrest you today with the rest of this scum, seeing as you were so helpful in finding them."

"No." Quasi whispered. "No, no, I didn't-"

"You led us right to them, dear boy, I always knew you would be of use to me someday." Cornello said, and then he waved a hand and everything became chaos.

Guards leaped into formation, grabbing gypsies left and right.

Ed saw Winry being dragged away, Rose, Winry's granny, Ling, Lanfan, Quasi, and then he was dragged off himself, and he kicked and fought but with one bad arm and his exhaustion there wasn't much he could do.

"On second thought, I think I might arrest you. I would do you good to watch this scum burn." Cornello hissed to Quasi, and Winry shouted.

"No, stop, you horrible-"

The guard holding her back hit her, hard, and Ed yanked at the hands holding him and yelled her name.

Quasi was struggling, yanking and pulling and snapping with his teeth like a dog, and in doing so, the scarf he was wearing fluttered off.

Ed knew that there was about a 50% chance that Cornello had been telling the truth. That Quasi had demon's eyes and could infect someone by looking at them.

This did not stop him from wanting to see the kid's eyes. What color eyes would make someone think you were evil? Red? Yellow?

And so he looked.

And he caught a glimpse of eyes that were not yellow, or red, but gold, bright, bright gold that he had only ever seen in mirrors or on his father's face. And he managed to form a shaky word, that he knew Quasi couldn't actually hear.

"_Alphonse_…?"

And somehow, as if he'd heard after all, Quasi locked eyes with Ed, who managed to yank one of his arms free long enough to get the glass over his eye off so that one of his eyes was black and one was gold.

And he heard Quasi gasp, loud, as the guards dragged the skin and bones bell ringer away.

Winry was looking at him like her heart was breaking for him.

"Is that…?"

"Yes. That's my brother." he whispered, because somehow he just _knew, _and kept his eyes on Quasi-_Alphonse-_until the boy was out of sight.

* * *

_A/N: Here you are, another chapter!_

_And you all groan "FINALLY!" as you reach out with grabby hands. _

_I know, I'm terrible at updating. I hope they boys realizing that they're brothers makes up for it...I think this is two more chapters at least, and then we're done. And I'm sorry if I can't get a new chapter out terribly soon. School tends to get in the way of my writing. I knocked this chapter out over spring break and now I am posting it at about 2 in the morning. Fun times.  
_

_But please, please R&R and favorite and all of that. I appreciate all that you guys give me._

_Much love, Ninjee_


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Winry woke up tied to a post in the middle of the town square. Her scarf was gone, her hair in her face, her clothes ripped, and she knew that she looked deranged. She glanced up through the curtain of her hair to try and find a face in the crowd of jeering Parisians the she recognized, one that was compassionate and not disgusted with her.

There was no one she knew in the crowd. _No one._

She kept looking for a moment, maybe in denial, maybe hoping, and she saw one person, finally, out of the corner of her eye. A young woman, golden-blonde hair and warm brown eyes, that didn't seem to be out for blood.

Her eyes were fierce when they met Winry's, and Winry felt comforted somehow.

The woman could not have been older than thirty, but she could not have been younger, really, than twenty. The point was, she was much older than Winry herself. Sixteen compared to twenty-six. It was only ten year's difference, yet it made so much of one.

Winry scolded herself quietly. What was she doing, what was she thinking? She had to focus on what was going on…

Of course, she already knew what was happening. _It_ was happening. She was tied up on a post in the town square. There were guards all around and wood and straw at her feet. Dry wood, crackly wood.

She was being burned at the stake.

She thought all this with a certain sort of detachment that only came with intense, burning fear. Then she breathed in slowly-_in through the nose, out through the mouth, good girl, don't panic, darling, _her mother said in a memory-and threw her head forward and then back so her hair would fall away from her face and she could see everything that was going on around her.

Ed. Where was Ed? Oh, _mon dieu, _where was Rose? Where was Granny? Where was her family?

She looked above the faces in the crowd and saw the Church. The Church. Where was Quasi-Ed's brother-Alponse-Quasi-AlphonseQuasi?

She looked back at the brown-eyed-woman. She knew that she look frantic, but she didn't dare call out to her, ask the questions she wanted to. _My family-where is my family?_

The woman nodded, ever so carefully, towards the Church. Winry looked to the base of it, to the great ornate door, and sucked in a sobbing breath.

There they were-at the base of the great Church-locked in cages, like scum. She searched for them, saw Granny next to Rose who was reaching a hand though the bars to try and touch her fingers to Tobias's, Mei who was sitting very still and holding Xiao Mei tightly, Lanfan with her shoulders tight, gripping the bars, looking for her grandfather and for Ling. Ling looking for Lanfan.

Ed was in a cage all his own, gripping the bars tight, shaking them. He was yelling something that she couldn't hear over the crowd.

She was trying to figure out what he was saying when Cornello exited the Church and everything grew silent.

He walked through the crowd like a king, like a god, beloved by his people. He had killed her parents. Not directly, but he had. He had kept Quasi imprisoned. He'd killed Ed's mother and separated him from his brother.

She _hated _him. She hated him so much she felt that she might die of it, die here before they even had the chance to burn her.

She didn't lower her head. She met his eyes, glaring, defiant. He smiled, smug as anything, and she wanted to scream, tear at the ropes binding her and scratch at his face. Hurt him the way he'd hurt her.

She looked at Ed instead, who had gone very still.

He seemed to be trying to tell her something, but she couldn't make out what.

"Hello, witch." Cornello said casually.

"Hello, murderer." she spat, tilting up her chin at him.

"I do the work of God, scum." Cornello said. "I doubt anyone in this square would disagree."

"I would."

Winry spun her head at the shout, and met the eyes of the blonde woman again. She was standing, arms crossed, defiant, and her words rung in the air.

"You have no right to murder others for the sake of what you believe is right. And in any case, isn't one of the Commandments 'thou shalt not kill?' I think, that if your God was to meet you, he would be most disappointed." the woman said, her words loud in the absolute silence of the square. Shocked faces peered at her from all directions.

Cornello, after a brief moment of shock, began to laugh. The woman didn't flinch.

"It seems Mustang's pet dog thinks she has a mind of her own." Cornello sneered. "Mustang, control her."

"What are you doing?" another man, Mustang, presumably, barked at her. "I told you to stay home. How dare you?"

Winry stared at them with wide eyes. He was grabbing her arm and dragging her over to where he'd been standing, in between Ed's cage and one of the other gypsy cages, the one that held Tobias. But when you looked, really looked?

She was going with him willingly. He wasn't dragging her, not really. His hand was loose on her arm, barely even bunching her sleeve. And while he was glaring at her now, and seeming to lecture her quietly, she looked like she was concentrating intensely, not like she was afraid.

All very odd.

She thanked the woman in her mind, because the exchange had given her time to see how good the knots in the rope were. Unfortunately, they _were_ good, a soldier's knots, and she tried to signal with her eyes to Ed that she couldn't get loose.

He seemed to be paying close attention to the man and his wife instead, as the wife was scolded. Winry huffed out an irritated breath and looked at her feet. Was there _anything at all _that she could do?

Cornello turned to her. "Of course, I shall give you one chance." he said, his voice low. "There is always a chance for repentance. Join us, gypsy girl. Find the way and the truth, and help me to purify the city. You shall live in comfort, perhaps in an orphanage, or on the convent. And you shall be saved."

Winry translated what he was asking her-_turn yourself in, become a member of the Church, and help us to rid the city of gypsies,_ or, _ betray your friends to save your own skin-_and knew there was only one answer.

"I would rather burn." she said, and spat in Cornello's face, which was very effective, due to Tobias teaching her the art of spitting into a bucket, very satisfying, due to the look on Cornello's face, and probably the worst thing she could have done in the situation, because of what Cornello shouted to the crowd as he turned away, wiping her spittle off his face.

"The witch has cursed the city! We shall not be free until she dies!" he screamed, a vein popping out in his neck, and the crowd roared.

"_Burn the witch! Burn her!" _they shouted as one, and Winry kept her eyes fixed on the other gypsies. Rose had taken out a rosary and was weeping and praying, Granny was watching steadily, facing her death with dignity, and the Chinese were looking at her. Mei stood, carefully, and bowed once, low, placing her hands together.

Winry remembered a sunny summer afternoon when Mei taught her Chinese, and said "Xie xie, mei-mei." _Thank you, little sister._

Mei smiled a little, heartbreakingly sad, as if she had heard.

She turned her focus to Ed, who was in the exact same pose he'd been in the whole time, his face close to the bars.

And as the two soldiers lit the fire underneath her, she focused on the gold of his eyes.

She loved him. She could admit it now. She was sixteen and a gypsy and in love with a boy that she had vague, cloudlike memories about from childhood, a boy with bravery and strength in spades, with a temper, who blushed when she hugged him.

She held onto him as the smoke climbed and choked her.

And she held onto her granny, and Rose, and Mei, and Ling and Lanfan and Tobias and Fu.

She hummed the melody she'd danced to at the Festival through a scratchy throat, and closed her eyes, making everything go black before she could faint and have Nature do it for her. Maybe it was strange, but she wanted this last victory.

_Oh God, let them live. Save them. My family, Ed, Quasi. Save them, please, please._

After that, everything was a blur of smoke and shouting.

* * *

He woke up to a buzzing in his ears and an ache in his body, tied with ropes.

His arms were bound to two pillars in the tower he'd tried so hard to leave behind. And no one else was there; he was alone.

His scarf had gone, had fallen. They'd seen his eyes. He'd been so afraid for a moment, because they were the kindest people in the entire world, and he was going to infect them-

Then Edward had pulled a covering off his own eyes and the world had stopped, had gone white around the edges, and silent.

Edward had demon's eyes.

But it couldn't be. Edward had saved Winry, had protected her, had traveled through the sewers with a hurt shoulder to warn every gypsy in the hideout. Edward was far from a demon.

He'd seen the other boy's lips moving and tried to listen as the soldiers dragged at him.

_Winry's voice. "Is that…?"_

_"Yes. That's my brother." Edward said._

_Brother. _

Oh, God.

"Brother." he breathed. And how long ago had it been, that he'd listened to Winry's tales of a warm campfire and prayed for a family?

This was proof that he wasn't a demon. God had answered his prayers. God loved him after all.

Despite the circumstances, he let himself smile, and whispered a _thank you_ into the emptiness of the tower.

_Now,_ the bells whispered. _To business, Quasimodo. Save them._

_I can't. _That was the simple truth of it. He was here alone, he was a weak little boy and they were big strong soldiers, and he was afraid.

_You can._ the bells sang, and chimed in the wind. _You can. Save them. Save your family._

He straightened, and opened his eyes, looked around at the tower. They'd left everything there. He supposed they didn't think he was much of a threat.

He saw his carving knife lying on the ground, but it was too far away.

His hands were bound behind his back and his ankles were tied, too, forcing him into a standing position. He could only barely move his hands and feet, but he could twist his body.

He had ropes around his ankles and wrists but there were even _more, _tied to the ones on his wrists and ankles and tied on the other end to the torch brackets on the walls, string him up like a puppet. He twisted, tugging at the experimentally.

He heard a roar from the square below and tugged harder. _Yes!_

As he'd thought, one of the ropes tied to his wrists and to the wall was tied far too loosely to the torch bracket. If he could get it off-he pulled harder-then maybe it would loosen the hold on his wrists.

The rope pulled free and he set to work on his wrists, rubbing them together uncomfortably as he worked on the knot.

_Wait. What kind of knot?_

He closed his eyes, hoping, and felt the knot with his fingertips until he was sure. A secret smile covered his face.

This was precisely the kind of knot he used on all of his bells. He knew knots like this. He carefully undid it, then leaned down the work on the knots around his ankles. He had just finished when he heard a loud shout.

"The witch has cursed the city! We shall not be free until she dies!" It was Cornello, and Quasimodo rushed to the window.

What he saw made his stomach feel like it was dropping out.

They were all in cages, every gypsy in the Court, all of them, like animals. And he saw his brother (that still gave him a thrill to even think) in one of the cages at the front, staring out with his demon's eyes exposed. He was staring at Winry, who was tied to a post in the middle of the square, hay and wood at her feet, a soldier approaching with a torch.

"Winry!" he screamed, leaning out the tower window, but she didn't hear him. No one could. The hay was lit and the flames rose.

And he couldn't do _anything._

He screamed along with Winry, in pain and frustration, the cheers of the crowd covering up the noise of his screams.

There must be something, something, _something..!_

He saw the extra ropes for the bells lying in a heap by the wall and he knew suddenly what he had to do.

"I won't let anyone else die," he whispered, "not for me, not anymore."

He tied one end of the enormous rope to one of the stone posts in the tower room, and wrapped the other end securely around his wrist. They he ran and stood at the edge, on the windowsill.

_Be brave._ the bells chimed. _Be brave, be brave._

He took a deep breath. Winry needed him.

He closed his eyes and jumped out the window.

The wind whipped though his too-long hair as he fell, holding on for dear life, to Winry, still burning. _Please,_ he prayed, _oh please don't let the flames have reached her yet, just let it be the smoke, don't let them touch her until I can save her._

She was unconscious by the time he reached her. He barely heard the terrified screams from the townsfolk, or Cornello's enraged roar. All he heard was the cheers from the gypsies, from Ed.

He swung past her on the rope and grabbed her, his momentum tugging her sweat-slicked wrists from the ropes. The rope swung them back up to a balcony on the side of the Church, and he stood there with Winry cradled in his arms, barely stirring, screaming with all his might. And this time, everyone heard him.

"Sanctuary!" he cried. _"Sanctuary!"_

* * *

_A/N: Well, next chapter's finally up! Blame the wait on a bad case of writer's block and a LOT of exams. Anyway, what I'm trying to say here is sorry it took so long.  
_

_I'm fairly sure we're reaching the end here! One more chapter, maybe two, and definitely an epilogue of some sort. It might take a bit, and for that I'm sorry. But summer break's pretty soon. So soon I'll be able to write more often and I might finish it faster, eh? That's be a nice change._

_As always, I own nothing except plot. _

_Please review! I love me the reviews!  
_

_Much love, Ninjee_


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